Indian Summer
by pins
Summary: Shivers ran up and down his body and the pain put his arms on fire. He was aware of his own tiny whimpers mingling with Malfoy’s as the people drew nearer and nearer." Draco finds Harry in the forbidden forest with a razor. love, self-harm, slash, quiddit
1. chapter 1

**disclaimer:all characters, things places etc. belong JK Rowling and Wrner bros. i own nothing. boo hoo.**

**hello! hope you like this story. it's one-shot for now but i like it enough to write another chapter. maybe. tell me what you think! don't forget to review on your way out! i treasure every one.**

It was late October, and the days should have been getting colder. Heavy, depressing grey clouds hung on the horizon, their bellies scraping the tips of the Scottish mountains that surrounded the ancient school of Hogwarts. However, due to global warming and some illegal student magic, Hogwarts was experiencing an out of season heat wave and classes had been excused for the day. A few students roamed the corridors of the school but most of them were outside, enjoying the weather and swimming in the lake.

However, the day off was not as innocent as it seemed; with Voldemort now acknowledged and at large, the defences and safety measures around the school had been increased greatly. Strong magical barriers had been placed around the perimeters of the school grounds, the forbidden forest was being watched closely for any sign of unusual activity, and all the post leaving and entering the school was being scanned by magical x-rays to make sure that the contents were malign. Today, aurors were taking the opportunity of the heat wave to make sure that defences within the school were what they should be. Aurors of all shapes and sizes were walking around the school with maps and wands out, reinforcing magical charms that had not been repaired for hundreds of years. They talked casually and most wore normal robes. Every now and then a house-elf would appear with a tray of cool drinks, the ice cubes clinking quietly and the small umbrellas whirling where they were pierced into slices of orange or lemon.

Outside, under the shade of a large oak, sat a large group of sixth year Gryffindors. They leant against the thick trunk and used their wands to send muggle inflatables chasing after the first years, their laughter following the terrified youngsters as they tried to escape their own blow-up hoops. The group consisted of Dean, Neville, Seamus, Ron, Hermione-who was trying very hard not to laugh, half-heartedly telling Ron to stoppit- ,Luna and Ginny-who were honorary sixth years for the day. After a while they got bored of tormenting the younger students and fell to talking.

"Did you see that one that jumped in the lake to escape it and then started drowning?! I had to send that dolphin in after him and he was too scared to hold onto it! He kept trying to swim away and then falling under the water. I might have had to go in and rescue him myself if the dumbass hadn't finally seen sense and grabbed hold!"

"Ron! It's not funny!" cried Hermione as he collapsed into snorts of laughter, "He was really scared, you've probably scarred him for life!"

"Talking of scars" Ginny piped up from where she was trying to plait Neville's hair, "has anyone seen Harry recently?"

"I think I saw him after lunch, he was surrounded by his first year fan club over by the greenhouses"

"Those guys are so cute, have you seen their badges with Harry on them?"

"They have badges now?!" laughed Dean, "and I thought it was bad when they came to breakfast with scars drawn onto their foreheads. Poor Harry, I don't blame him for disappearing."

"Yes, but I'm really getting worried about him. He's always disappearing these days." Hermione interjected seriously. There was a moment of silence as they all considered what she had said.

"Yeah, but what can we do, we can't follow him round all the time, making sure that he's ok, he'd hate that" Ron pointed out, "Anyway, he gets annoyed enough when we ask him how he's feeling, let alone forcing him to stay in our company all the time."

Neville nodded his head in agreement, the short stubby plaits that covered it bobbing up and down. "It's true, he's really touchy nowadays. I walked in on him in the showers yesterday and he screamed at me. Those are communal showers, he's not allowed to hog them for himself."

A murmur of agreement sounded around the tree and a few heads nodded thoughtfully.

"He is alright though," spoke Luna dreamily "he seems ok to me"

"Yeah, he's fine. Just a bit moody. He's been like this since the summer, he'll get over it soon." Ron said firmly. "Besides all he needs is a girlfriend. I bet that would cheer him up." He grinned and nudged Ginny who blushed and giggled helplessly. Others joined in and their laughter floated out across the lake.

* * *

The late afternoon sunlight poured through the gaps between the leaves of the forbidden forest and mottled the floor a deep gold. A light wind rustled the very top most branches and a few leaves turned lazily through the air, to land among the litter and dry twigs scattered across the ground. From the direction of the lake came the distant shouts and laughter of Hogwarts pupils. Occasionally there would be the sound of someone jumping into the lakes and the shrieks that followed it would float out across the grounds on the Autumn air. 

Harry lay on his back, looking up through the branches of the trees. In the fingers of his right hand he held a small razor and he played with it idly as he watched the fluffy white clouds sail across the sky. The left sleeve of his shirt was rolled up to reveal his forearm covered with scratches and scars. A recent cut let a trickle of blood crawl towards the floor where the drop fell onto the crisp, dry leaves. Harry shifted his weight and brought the razor back to his wrist. His face was a pale golden colour, his brilliant green eyes sparkling in the shadows that filled his eye sockets. A raw jagged line ran across his forehead and creased when the skin did, it's lightening shape contorting even more.

Harry pressed the razor gently against his wrist and a bead of blood appeared, bright red against the pale blue of his veins. Suddenly, a caw erupted from his right and a large bird flapped it's wings loudly before launching itself into the air. Harry started and the razor pushed deeper into the flesh of his wrist. Immediately, a spurt of blood erupted from the gash and Harry dropped the razor, pressing the cuff of his right sleeve onto the bleeding wrist. Slowly he brought both hands up in front of his face, biting his lip in pain. The blood had quickly soaked the shirt sleeve red and as he held it high, drops of blood fell to spot the front of his shirt.

Harry stared at it and then let it drop back to his side. He knew that he should be reasonable and do something about it, bandage it, get back to the castle and fix it with his wand, but could he really be bothered to be reasonable? What was the point anyway? So he could cut himself again tomorrow? And the day after that?

Why don't I just let it bleed? What will happen? I'm going to die soon anyway, I'd rather die like this than screaming in pain at the hands of Voldemort. At least if I die now I wont be able to disappoint anyone. I know I'm not going to be able to fulfil the prophecy, better everyone else know it now than live in false hope.

Harry let go of his wrist and felt around in the dry leaf litter for the razor. Finally his fingers came in contact with it and he brought it back to his wrist, widening the cut, tearing through the layers of skin until a jagged line divided hand from arm. He could feel the pain throbbing up his arm in time with his pulse and he transferred the razor to the other hand. As he brought his arm over, the blood ran down his palm and splashed onto his shirt again. Once he had managed to create another gash across his right wrist, he let his left hand fall back to his side and closed his eyes.

_I wonder how long it will take_, he thought, _how long does it take for all your blood to drain from your body, leaving you absolutely dry. _

Another gust of wind rustled the leaves and Harry let himself drift, his mind wandering lazily through his memories. A twig snapped somewhere in the forest and the pools of blood surrounding Harry's hands grew. What could have been the murmuring of the wind grew louder until it became recognisable as human voices. Harry didn't register this fact until the voices were nearly upon him. He opened his eyes. The voices burst into careless laughter, none that Harry recognised. He tried to sit up just as the two boys entered the small clearing where he lay, but his hands slipped in their twin pools of blood and he fell back to the floor with a thump. The voices stopped and Harry closed his eyes; at the last moment, he had recognised them.

"Fuuuck."

"Blaise, go and get a teacher."

"Draco—"

"I said go and get a teacher! And don't stop to talk to anyone, just go and get Dumbledore or Snape or McGonagal, anybody, just go!"

Blaise murmured something quietly and Draco laughed. "Go!"

Blaise Zabini ran lithely through the trees, the sound of his feet fading slowly.

"Potter you fuckwit!" Draco knelt down next to Harry "you complete tosser, you stupid, idiotic, selfish bastard, you prick, you absolute twat, you-"

He shook Harry, trying to think of more profanities "Oh just wake up!"

"Fuck off and let me die"

"Oh thank god he's alive, listen to the sweet words of thanks he gives to his rescuer."

"Shut up Malfoy" Harry opened his eyes and glared up at him.

"That's no way to speak to a person who is trying to save your life" said Draco scoldingly.

"You don't seem to be trying very hard" said Harry, lifting his wrists, "noticed these?"

"I was just coming to those, right after I'd told you what I thought of you" Draco said nonchalantly. "what do you propose I do about them?"

"Nothing, just fuck off and leave me alone"

"Ooh, look who woke up on the wrong side of the razor this morning. What's wrong? Is Potter's suicide attempt not going to plan?" Malfoy drawled, "well don't worry, I'm here to help. Where's your wand?"

"Mine? Where's yours?"

"Blaise has it. Shit, I knew I shouldn't have given it to him while we were…"

"What?"

"Oh nothing. If you don't give it to me I'll have to search you for it Potter."

"I'm telling you, I don't have it!"

"A likely story" Draco smiled as he slid a hand into Harry's pocket. Harry shifted uncomfortably as he felt Draco's hand pressing against his flesh. His face was going hot and Draco grinned predatorily as he forced his hand into the other pocket. Harry breathed in the smell of the other boy and closed his eyes again.

"Right" said Draco strangely, "No wand in there I guess. It'll have to be bandages then, And I'm not ruining my shirt. How about yours, it's already dirty."

"No" Harry said vehemently "No way" But Draco's fingers were already fumbling with the buttons. Harry rocked from side to side jerkily, forcing Draco to let go. He tried to roll over but suddenly he was pulled forcefully onto his back and a heavy weight sat on top of him.

"If you think that I'm going to let you die" Draco hissed "You've got another thing coming, Potter. It would make me very happy to just walk away at this point and leave you but unfortunately enough for us, everyone is going to die if I do. In case you haven't been following current affairs, there is a crazy man trying to take over the world and you're the one who's supposed to save us all."

Harry looked up into the cool silver eyes and felt such a rush of hatred that he could hardly contain himself "You think I don't know that? You think I'm not reminded of it every time someone looks at me? The whole fucking school is looking at me to save their fucking arses and I can't! Do you know what it feels like to know that everyone is relying on you and you're going to let everybody down? Do you? No you fucking don't so just leave me alone and fucking fuck off"

Harry stopped and only realised he'd been straining up from the ground when he collapsed back onto it.

"And you really think killing yourself is the answer? Merlin Potter, you're even stupider than I thought."

Malfoy's face contorted in disgust and Harry wanted nothing more than to punch him hard right where it would hurt. But his arms were already feeling heavier. The blood screamed in their veins but the pain was distant and heavy, like pins and needles. His mouth worked for something cutting to say in return but found nothing. What was the point anyway? It was too late. Malfoy took the opportunity.

"Right" he said "Now off it comes."

Harry closed his eyes and let Malfoy unbutton his shirt and pull it carefully from his back and arms. Whether this was from distaste at getting blood on his hands or from a real worry for Harry, Harry didn't bother to analyse, submitting himself to being undressed. His arms buzzed and his head felt curiously light. The sun was hot on his face and he realised that he didn't mind Malfoy sitting on his stomach. His eyes flickered open at the sound of the other boy's voice.

The sun lit up every strand of Draco's platinum blond hair, and cast his face in shadows, making him look like a dark angel with a halo of light. The dark silvery eyes concentrated on the shirt in his hands and Draco muttered something again.

"What?" Harry asked

"I said I can't rip this shirt, it must have an anti ripping charm on it or something"

"That would have been Hermione." said Harry, his voice slightly apologetic.

"Well if I can't rip it then how am I going to make a bandage for each wrist?"

"Mwahaha, once again I have foiled your plan with my superior wit and brain power" Harry grinned lopsidedly.

"I don't think so, scar-boy" said Draco, a smirk curling the edges of his lip as he began to undo his own shirt. Harry watched in fascination-after all he was going to die and this was the last time he'd get to see a beautiful boy – did he just think that? About Malfoy? His mind would never be clean again, _never_, that was supposing he survived which he wasn't going to do – undressing in front of him. Slowly, Draco's chest was revealed, and the shirt came off. His skin was milky white, and his stomach was flat and toned, his arms fit but not too muscly. Harry soaked it all in with his eyes as he lay underneath it, pleased that his mind was too fuzzy to analyse what it was thinking. It was only when Draco reached down for his left wrist that Harry realised what he was trying to do.

With all his remaining strength, Harry brought his hand up and slapped Malfoy's hand away.

"No" Harry yelled hoarsely "I won't let you"

"You don't have a choice" Draco said determinedly reaching again. His fingers grasped it but this time Harry's other hand came up, shoving him weakly in the chest and half toppling Malfoy off his perch on Harry's stomach. Malfoy had a grasp of Harry's left wrist now but as he reached over for the right Harry flicked his wrist out of Malfoy's grasp grabbing a fistful of Malfoy's hair and pulling sideways, staining the locks a deep red and sending droplets of blood into Draco's eyes. He wiped furiously at his face, smearing the blood across both his cheeks as he settled himself once again on top of Harry.

"Right, that's it." He growled, reaching for the two abandoned shirts.

Harry grabbed Draco's forearms, the blood from his wrists trickling along the other boys skin, but Malfoy was ready and with one fluid motion forced Harry's arms above his head, pressing them onto the ground with the shirts pressed tightly against the bleeding wounds.

Harry tried to glare angrily at Draco but the pain was too much for him. It felt as though he had two red hot bands wrapped around his wrists. A gasp of pain escaped his lips and he blinked away a few tears that had sprung to his eyes. He struggled weakly but the fight that had briefly flared in him had left him and there was nothing he could do.

"Why do you always have to ruin everything" he breathed through his clenched teeth. Blackness was encroaching on his vision but still he glared up into the silvery-grey orbs above him, his forehead shiny from exertion, it's scar standing out in livid colour to match his wrists. He was all too aware of Draco's stomach pressing against his own, and Draco's breath tickling his lips and nose. He tried to keep his breathing steady as Draco shifted on top of him. Draco's lips were half open and Harry could see his tongue and the flash of white teeth.

"Fuck Potter" whispered Draco slowly "Why do you have to be so damn tempting?"

They could hear voices through the trees now, shouts and yells as people crashed through bushes and undergrowth.

"Malfoy" Harry's voice hitched as the boy moved on top of him and he felt the other erection pressing into his own.

Suddenly, with a small moan Draco's face dropped and closed the gap between them. Their lips met in a clash of noses and teeth. Harry's mouth opened immediately, allowing Malfoy's hot slick tongue to enter, sliding over and around his own. Draco was clenching Harry's wrists so tightly that the pain was almost too much to bear. Harry's eyes were clenched shut as he tried to retain consciousness. Shivers ran up and down his body and the pain put his arms on fire. He was aware of his own tiny whimpers mingling with Malfoy's as the people drew nearer and nearer. The kiss grew more urgent and black spots appeared behind Harry's eyelids as his head was pressed against the floor. He could recognise single voices now, words.

Harry pressed up from the ground and Draco gasped and bit down onto Harry's bottom lip. At that point, whether from pain or pleasure, Harry's mind slid into darkness and he lost all conscious thought.

**Review, Please!**


	2. chapter 2

Draco sat morosely in the chair next to Potter's bed, watching the rise and fall of the other boy's skinny chest beneath the sheets. Potter's hands were swamped in bandages and he looked very small and frail against the pillows, the familiar zigzag of the scar burning red in the paleness of his forehead.

Blaise had been here a few minutes ago bringing a potion for Potter but Draco hadn't had a chance to talk to him before he was sent out again to fetch Granger and Weasley. He'd managed to ask for a clean shirt although he'd forgotten to ask for his wand back and no one had yet offered to perform a cleaning spell to wipe the blood from his skin and hair. In fact, no one seemed to be paying him much attention at all, fussing around Potter like he was a baby; pouring potions down his throat, covering him in cream, bandaging him, putting needles in him, prodding and poking and looking at him, stripping him (Draco had had enough decency to turn away for that bit) and tucking him into bed before starting all over again.

McGonagall and Snape had both arrived with Blaise and the potion and they were now all in the adjoining office with Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey discussing what to do with Potter. Draco felt forgotten and out of place, a feeling he was unused to and made him feel grumpy and fractious. How dare they forget him? He'd just saved their precious Potter's life! He deserved a medal! He wondered if he should stay or leave, what was expected of him in this sort of situation? He'd saved Potter from himself , was that enough or did he have to sit around in the dingy infirmary for another couple of hours before he was allowed to exit.

Potter gave a small moan and shifted in the bed slightly, his eyelids flickering. Draco felt his throat constrict and looked away, flicking his attention to a very interesting piece of wall and then back to Potter lying amongst the wrinkled sheets. I wonder what made him do it, he thought. Potter had never seemed the type who would top themselves to get out of a situation. He had always faced things head-on before – Draco should know – why give up now and call it a defeat? Because that was what killing yourself was all about, admitting defeat and failure in the face of things. Potter had never done that before. Draco supposed that the death of Potter's godfather at the beginning of the summer might have had something to do with it but _his_ father was in fucking Azkaban – thanks to Potter – and he wasn't going around moping and trying to kill himself.

Potter moaned again and arched his back off the mattress, his throat stretching and his brow furrowing. Where was Blaise with that shirt? If he didn't get here soon Draco would have to leave without it.

The door to the infirmary opened and closed and footsteps echoed across the wooden floor. The green curtain tweaked next to his head and Draco looked up expecting to see the familiar brown wave of Blaise's hair and instead being faced with the affronting red of Weasley's. He felt his lip curl in distaste as the other boy's eyes darted from the black-haired boy on the bed to Draco's face and back again, his face a mixture of confusion and worry. Finally he seemed to reach a conclusion.

* * *

"You bastard."

"Sorry?"

"You Bastard!"

"What the fuck?"

"What have you done to him, huh?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Weasley but if I was you I'd lower your voice."

"Oh yeah and why's that?"

"Because then someone might hear you and neither of us would want that would we?"

"We wouldn't?"

"I always said you were simple Weasley. No we wouldn't. Because a) that person might be Potter and if we wake him up he might get upset and we all know what happens when poor ikkle Potty gets upset and b)if it's someone else they'll interrupt all our fun"

"Fun? Malfoy? You're… What the fuck are you talking about?"

"We're going to fight."

"We are?"

"Yes. Shall we take this outside?"

"Ok"

Harry's eyes flickered open to the muffled thumps and grunts that signalled two people fighting nearby. A candle in the bracket above his head, made fuzzy by his lack of glasses, flickered in an unfelt breeze. Outside the castle the shouts and laughter of children told Harry that it was still late afternoon. Harry's head was filled with fog and he found it hard to focus on anything. The high white-washed walls and shadowed ceiling merged into the pale green curtains surrounding his bed. Giving up on sight, he closed his eyes. He had been in the medical room so many times before that he didn't immediately question why he was there this time. Only slowly, helped along by a series of crashes and oophs! from outside did he remember what had happened in the forest. His eyes snapped open and he forced the fog from his mind and did another body check. He felt fine all over not counting a strange heaviness of the limbs and he wondered tentatively what was going on in his wrist area. It was useless; anywhere south of his elbows was a no go zone. Both his wrists and hands were completely numb and as he tried to lever himself up he collapsed back onto the bed and a drip that stood near him rattled. He stared at it blearily from his pillows and wondered crazily if he wasn't in Hogwarts at all but in a muggle hospital somewhere in Scotland; he had never known wizards to use drips before. But it would make sense he supposed – a direct supply of potion (and on closer inspection it was a potion, green and bubbling and making Harry feel quite queasy just looking at it) to the blood. He managed after some squirming to get himself propped up onto the head rest just as two boys crashed through the curtains dividing him from the rest of the infirmary. The both landed on the floor in a pile and Ron stood up first, dragging Malfoy up by the hair before Malfoy kicked him viciously in the shins and they both stood back panting a little.

"What the hell" said Harry slowly, slurring the edges of his words a little "Are you doing?"

Both Ron and Malfoy looked up at Harry, Ron's face a picture of pleasure, worry and surprise, Malfoy's look was unreadable. Ron spoke first.

"Harry" it was filled with suppressed emotion "I thought you were dead. I thought he'd killed you"

"And I've been trying to tell the stupid bastard that I was saving your life but he won't fucking listen."

"It wasn't me who started a fight!"

"The hell it wasn't! I only suggested we fight..."

"There, what did I tell you"

"_Metaphorically_"

"Sure, now it's metaphorical"

"And the stupid bastard jumps me before I get a chance to get to my wand"

"So that was your plan you slimy tosser, should've known.."

"Shut up." Harry's voice was quiet and angry and immediately the other two boys stopped talking. "And someone give me my glasses I can't feel my hands"

There was a long pause. Malfoy was nearest Harry's bedside table and Ron seemed to be deliberating which was worse; having to squeeze past Malfoy or having to watch Malfoy have body contact with Harry.

"Oh for God's sake" Malfoy snapped and picked up the pair of glasses on the side and sliding them carefully onto Harry's nose. For a moment Harry felt Malfoy's cool slender fingers against his temples, he swallowed. Everything came into sharper focus and Harry was able to look around him properly. His wrists were swathed in bandages and his arms were lathered in cream – supposedly the cause of the numbness. Malfoy was still topless and had a black eye and some pretty impressive bruising to add to the blood caked in his hair and smeared across his cheeks, chest and arms. He looked like he'd just done battle with a terrible monster and Harry almost smiled to think that the terrible monster was himself. Ron hovered near the edge of his bed, his lip cut and bleeding down his chin, his blue eyes smarting.

"It's true." Harry said after a while, looking away from both of them and staring at a point in the distance. "He did…save my life."

At that point the door opened and Blaise Zabini came in followed closely by Hermione and Ginny. Malfoy's face lifted as soon as he saw Zabini and he flicked a strand of blood-stiffened hair out of his eye before walking over to him. Blaise was carrying a clean shirt and handed it to Malfoy with a laugh when he came near enough. Malfoy scowled and Zabini reached out a hand and rubbed with his thumb at a smear of blood on Draco's collar bone. Malfoy smiled a bit then and said something which made Zabini glance over at where Harry was lying. And then he was engulfed by the girls.

"Harry!"

"Harry, what happened? I was told to come to the medical room. Are you all right?"

"What happened to your wrists?"

"Why is Malfoy here?"

Harry was saved from having to answer any questions by the appearance of Albus Dumbledore in the doorway of the office.

* * *

"I don't see why I'm being prevented from healing him. It's a simple enough spell and with the right potions and lotions he won't even have scars."

"It's not that simple Poppy. Tea anyone?"

"Ooh yes please"

Minerva McGonagall gave a sharp nod of her head and Dumbledore turned expectantly towards Severus Snape.

"No thank-you"

"He has obviously been self-harming for a long time now. If we just made the scars and cuts disappear it would be as bad as if we just dismissed them straight out. It would be missing the problem entirely. Those cuts aren't just physical Poppy, they are mental. It is Harry's way of expressing his pain and we can't just wipe it clean and pretend it doesn't exist. It would only enhance his levels of mental anguish." Dumbledore leant forwards across the small round table and handed Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey both a cup of tea.

"Milk and two sugars for you Poppy and just a slice of lemon for you Minerva. Biscuits?"

"Thank-you. Do you have any shortbread?"

"Rich tea please. Well I don't know about psychology headmaster but what I do know is that there is a hurt boy in that room back there and that although it is in my capacity to heal him I am being stopped from doing so. Am I supposed to just stand by and watch as he cuts himself to pieces?"

Dumbledore pauses in the middle of pouring himself a cup of tea and makes a shocked face, "By all means no!"

"Then what do you propose I do?"

"You may give him blood-replenishing potions and the potion which Severus has given you to quicken the blood clotting process, and you may apply cream to his cuts which will stop them stinging so much but you may not under any circumstances heal them completely."

Madame Pomfrey shifted in her chair and made a harumphing sound but didn't protest further.

"Now that that issue is sorted I propose we discuss what to do with Harry once he has recovered fully physically and yes Poppy I do consider physically recovered to include scars and cuts. It never stopped anyone before."

"Can't we send him back to his guardians?"

"Oh no we can't, they're positively dreadful. They wouldn't take him anyway."

"Well we can't have him around other students. What if he tries to hang himself in the Great Hall next? Or worse…"

"I still say we can't send him back to his Uncle's. They're muggles and with you-know-who around and fully acknowledged we can't just abandon his most wanted wizard in the home of some basically incompetent muggles who frankly wouldn't know a death eater from a boggart, that's supposing they know what either of those are…"

"But how are we supposed to stop him cutting himself? If we can't stop him doing that then who knows what will happen to him…"

"Colleagues, friends, please. Can we just address this in an orderly fashion. Although I agree that in his present state it would be dangerous to allow Harry to mingle with the other students it is also my view that we can not extradite him from the wizarding world. And the matter of how to stop him self-harming is exactly the one we are here to discuss Poppy."

"I appreciate your points headmaster but how are we to stop him self-harming if he so chooses? And if you aren't going to expel him from Hogwarts how do you propose we prevent him effecting other pupils?"

"Valid points Severus. I was wondering if any of you had suggestions."

There was a long pause in the study. Dust motes swirled in the shaft of light that came in through the window. There was a shriek of laughter and a loud splash as someone jumped into the Lake outside.

"If we can't send him to his official guardians then why can't we send him to stay with Lupin? We are assuming that the reason for his behaviour is out of distress at the death of his godfather. Lupin has been effected badly as well. Couldn't they _comfort_ each other?"

Snape said the word comfort with a sneer of disgust that no one in the room seemed to notice.

"It would only be an opportunity for them to mope together. We don't know what Remus is going through, he could be the last person Harry needs to be around. Anyway I thought we had decided that we were going to keep him in Hogwarts."

"It is a good idea Severus but I think that it would be a bad idea for Harry to stay with Remus, considering where Remus is staying at the moment and the unknown quantity of his own mental health. Anymore suggestions?"

Another pause filled the study. Madame Pomfrey moved one of the doilies around the table and sipped at her tea. Professor McGonagall took a bite of her shortbread and smiled quietly to herself. Snape stared at a particularly offensive ornament of two little china children kissing rather too enthusiastically on a bench. He looked away.

"There are potions I can brew that divests the drinker of their free will. Alternatively there are ones that will make him permanently happy, or smother his emotions completely."

Professor McGonagall put down her tea cup into it's saucer and swallowed before dabbing at the crumbs around her mouth.

"I hardly think that would aid the matter. If Harry knows what he is feeling but can't feel it, it would only plunge him deeper into depression when he wasn't on the potions." One of her steely eyebrows raised just a fraction, "And as for the free-will one, isn't that illegal?"

Snape raised an eyebrow in return and the corners of his mouth quirk, "Maybe."

"I think that we should at least hide or prevent him from being able to reach sharp objects that he could use to cut himself with" Madame Pomfrey interjected, determined not to be left out of the discussion – after all, she seemed to be the only one caring about the boy's physical well-being.

"I was thinking just the same thing Poppy" Dumbledore said kindly

"No offence Headmaster, but how do you propose we do that? We can't hide all the knives and forks, what will the rest of the student body eat with? Not to mention the professors."

"Isn't there a charm or something…?"

"I think there might be a spell we could cast that would prevent him from self-harming"

"Isn't that just like taking away his free will? I thought you said that was against the law Professor."

"It is. I'm sure there's a paragraph about that in the Wizard and Witches human rights convention."

"Of course, we will ask Harry for his own decision on the matter. Whatever we think may be the best way of dealing with it. It is after all Harry's life."

"Yes well he doesn't seem to be taking much care of it does he?"

"That as may be it will still be his decision. The school is entitled to government funded counselling. We have mostly used it in the cases of homesick first years but I think that now might be a good time to call in Professor Waterman, that is if Harry agrees. I believe that there are also some anti-depressant potions you can brew Severus?"

The Professor nodded his head slowly, looking down his long nose at Poppy's hand rearranging the doilies decorating the table.

"Good. Well I shall present Mr Potter with his options when Madame Pomfrey deems him fit but until then I think that by the racket going on in your infirmary that Mr Zabini must have arrived with Mr Weasley and Miss Granger. Shall we go out and greet them? I think they have a right to know what has been happening with their friend."

Dumbledore unfolded himself from the small chair he had been sitting in and walked calmly towards the door.

* * *

"Why is Malfoy here?"

Harry was saved from having to answer any questions by the appearance of Albus Dumbledore in the doorway of the office.

"Children, please quiet down. I'm sure Harry is feeling quite bombarded by your questions."

Dumbledore smiled at Harry and his eyes twinkled behind their half-moon frames. Harry looked away. _Here we go, crunch time_. His eyes fell once again on Malfoy and Zabini on the other side of the room. Malfoy was pulling his shirt on gratefully and smiling while Zabini talked, his head bent close to Malfoy's and his longish brown hair falling slightly in front of his eyes. He had almost exactly the same haircut as Malfoy Harry realised. Dumbledore was talking again but Harry was distracted by the sight of Zabini beginning to button Malfoy's shirt. Their heads were very close now and their foreheads were almost touching. Zabini was still talking but suddenly Malfoy's head turned to face Harry and their eyes met. Harry felt something strange twist in his chest. He had been trying not to think about what had happened immediately before he had fainted but he couldn't help it now. What did it all mean? He had never kissed or been kissed by a boy before. He'd never even thought about it. And this on top of everything else he had been feeling recently was just too much. What was Malfoy trying to do to him? They hated each other and then that?! And now this? Harry looked away, straight into the blue eyes of Dumbledore and realised that everyone was staring at him.

"Harry, are you OK?"

"Yeah." He said uncertainly, adding "I can't feel my hands."

"Do you feel up to telling your friends what happened to you today Harry?"

Harry looked around at the expectant faces. He thought about telling them to sit down, breaking it to them gently.

"I tried to kill myself."

The shocked looks on their faces was worth it. None of them seemed able to say anything; it was almost funny. He heard a snort of laughter from across the room but forced himself not to look.

"I was going to suggest putting up the wall of your cubicle and giving you some privacy first." Dumbledore said quietly. McGonagall and Snape were standing behind him – when had they appeared Harry wondered– and McGonagall looked as shocked at Harry's bluntness as the rest while Snape looked faintly amused. Finally his friends seemed to find their voices.

"Harry!"

"How? Why? I mean, thank-god you're alright."

"What were you trying to do? Are you retarded or something?"

"Ron! Harry how could you?"

"What's Malfoy got to do with it though?"

"I would have succeeded if Malfoy hadn't found me and sent Zabini to get a teacher. You can thank him if you like."

Everybody seemed to involuntarily look towards Zabini and Malfoy – who now had his shirt buttoned up – who were smirking.

"Feel free, don't be shy. I don't bite."

Zabini snickered quietly and Malfoy seemed to reconsider, he was about to say something when Dumbledore interrupted.

"That's enough Mr Malfoy. I think it was time you had a shower. Thank-you both for your help now Goodbye."

* * *

It hadn't been so hard. Ginny had cried, Hermione's eyes became watery as she clung to Ron's hand, both their knuckles white. Ron had repeated everything Harry had said until Harry was exasperated enough to shout at him.

They all left pretty soon after that.

Now he was lying in bed, the sun's last rays casting shadows across the ceiling, the shouts from the grounds finally stopped as everyone made their way inside for dinner. Madame Pomfrey was doing something to his wrists, and he was staring at the ceiling, waiting for the worst bit to come.

"Hello Harry, Poppy." Dumbledore put his bearded old face through the flap in the curtains and then drew the rest of his body through. Why did everyone enter like that? Harry wondered. "Poppy, I wondered if I could have Harry alone for a few minutes."

The medi-witch smiled knowingly and then left them alone. Harry avoided Dumbledore's eyes. He was overwhelmed with the urge to apologise but bit his tongue and just listened as Dumbledore began to talk about therapists and anti-depressants. He let his mind wander slightly and when the meeting was over he smiled and said yes and please and thank-you like the golden-boy he was. Just as Dumbledore was leaving he seemed to pause and think.

"Oh and Harry?"

"Yes Sir"

"If things become too much there are some potions that Professor Snape can brew to detach you from your emotions or make you feel only happy."

"Thank-you Professor but I don't think I'll be needing them."

Liar. Harry looked away from the sad blue eyes and instead turned his stare to his bandaged hands. Professor Dumbledore stayed hovering in the doorway for a few more seconds gazing sadly at the frail boy with the tousled black hair surrounded by white. And then he was gone with a swish of the curtains.

Over the next few days Harry stayed in the medical room, his friends visiting occasionally. Ron talked to him about safe things like Quidditch – "Angelina is having a spaz attack. Do you think you'll be well enough to play in the match against Slytherin? Ginny's taking your place for the moment but she's not really as good as you." – whilst Hermione brought him homework and chattered nervously about books and school work. Surprisingly it was Ginny's visits that brought him the most pleasure. She told him news and gossip from Hogwarts and made him laugh with her stories of the mishaps of other people. He felt more relaxed in her presence and laughed a little easier. For the brief hours she spent with him he was able to forget about his attempted suicide, Malfoy, the War, Voldemort and the numbness of his wrists. Although that could be the effects of the anti-depressant potions he was imbibing every twelve hours.

* * *

On the fourth day his bandages were gently peeled away. He had avoided watching when Madame Pomfrey dressed them each day but when they were finally removed and the numbing spell taken off them he forced himself to look. His skin was pale and white where it had been hidden from the sun and the scars and cuts criss-crossed the skin in angry red lines. His wrists' cuts were a dangerous purple colour and the skin around them was puckered and swollen. He looked away. Even the anti-depressants couldn't stop him from feeling the raw ache inside him at the sight of his mutilated limbs.

When Ginny visited him that afternoon, she tactfully didn't mention his arms, avoiding them with her eyes, and handing him a small package.

"Madame Pomfrey told me they might look a bit…so I bought you these." She smiled shyly and Harry noticed her hair shining copper in the light. He tried a tentative smile back and clumsily began to unwrap it. His fingers got caught in the ribbon and Ginny blushed and started forwards.

"I'm sorry, I'm so stupid. Here let me help."

Her fingers were delicate and dry against his as she gently teased open the knot and she guided him through the paper.

"Ginny, thank-you" Harry smiled when he saw what they were "They're great. Perfect."

The black wrist bands lay in his lap amid a tangle of ribbon and paper. They had green stitching round the edges and Ginny helped Harry slide them over his hands onto his wrists, covering the ugly scars. He looked up and was close enough to see the freckles across her nose and the small silver studs in her ears.

"Ginny." She touched the side of his face carefully and looked tentatively into his eyes. He had never noticed the colour of her eyes before he realised, they were a beautiful greeny-blue. She leant forwards, her eyelashes touching her freckles and kissed him softly on the lips. It was a soft, slow kiss and her mouth opened for him when he pressed his tongue against her lips. She tasted different to Malfoy, he couldn't help thinking, and Cho. And Mandy. And Pandora. But it was a good different and he leant into their kiss.

"Ahem." Ginny sprang away blushing. She took a few hurried steps backwards and picked up her bag. Madame Pomfrey stood in the entrance of his cubicle looking faintly amused.

"Uh, see you Harry!" Ginny said before running out of the cubicle, her hurried footsteps receding out of the infirmary and down the corridor. Harry groaned and fell back amongst his pillows.

"Sorry Harry but I allow no Hanky Panky in my infirmary" Madame Pomfrey said unforgivingly "Those are the rules." She turned and left him to his growing feeling of despair.

The next day he was released.


	3. chapter 3

**Thanks to all my lovely reviewers you are all great!I try and reply to the ones that ask questions or seem to need answering or just because i love you. xD. Please don't forget to review on your way out, thanks!**

**PixieGodess1, Prosthetic.ballerina, Shadow00 -who knows aboutHarry's sexuality? does he even know himself? lol. this is going to be a Harry/Draco fic of course but there might be some other ships in here as well along the way (i'e Harry/Ginny and Draco/Blaise) but they wont last long, i mean- how can they!!**

**Shadow00 - i don't think that i'm going to be adding any more chapters to 'Half Empty' 'cos i can'tthink of anywhere else to take it, also i'm abit caught up with work and one fanfic is enough for me at the moment!**

Draco looked up from where he was talking to Blaise as the Great Hall went silent. A second later it erupted in whispering and giggling. Draco a girl in third year near to him say to her friend "Merlin he's beautiful, even when he's suicidal, unshaved and wearing that hideous T-shirt he's still sexy."

Harry Potter was standing in the entrance to the Hall, looking slightly shifty and nervous but determined. He was unshaved – Draco could see the stubble on his chin from where he was sitting – and his hair was even more of a mess than usual. He was wearing the square-rimmed glasses that he had begun wearing at the beginning of the year and he brought up a hand to push them further up his nose. As he did, the cuff of his horrible grey-green long sleeved T-shirt – how could he bear to wear it in the heat – slipped down a little to reveal a black wrist band covering the large welts that Draco knew must be there. He was wearing baggy black jeans that must be almost slipping off his hips they were so big on him. Oh bad thought, Draco blinked. Must not think about Potter's hips, or his stomach, or his thighs or his…maybe this wasn't such a bad thought after all. One corner of his mouth slipped up.

Potter looked in Draco's direction and their eyes connected and Draco felt his stomach clench. He concentrated on keeping his expression blank. Could you tell that someone had been thinking about you just by looking in their eyes?

"Harry! Harry!" Draco heard a high pitched voice calling from the Gryffindor table behind him and Draco felt something akin to disappointment as Potter's eyes were ripped away from his and he walked past the Slytherin table with his customary determined stride.

"Draco" Blaise whined from his left hand side, placing a hand on Draco's hip "You haven't been listening to a word I've been saying."

"Sorry, I was distracted by Lord Potty's entrance" Draco said airily turning back to his food, "What were you saying?"

Blaise's lip curled but he didn't move his hand from Draco's hip as he began talking about how they were going to beat the Gryffindors in the upcoming Quidditch match.

* * *

Harry sat down next to Ginny, feeling everybody's eyes on him. He clenched his fists to stop himself from turning around and retreating to the sanctuary of the infirmary and glared at the other tables. Ginny smiled shyly next to him and he stopped mid-glare, unsure of whether he was supposed to be comforting her or if he was expected to say something. His wavery smile seemed to do the trick as she turned back to her food looking happier than she had before. Ron passed him a basket of fresh rolls across the table and smiled at him. 

"Good to see you back mate," he said around a mouthful of bacon, "You coming to lessons today?"

"Um, yeah" Harry nodded.

He was distracted all through his meal by people shooting him worried looks, as though he was about to crack at any moment and try to kill himself in front of them all at breakfast. By the end of the meal his mouth was sore from smiling reassuringly at so many people.

* * *

_It would have to be wouldn't it_, Harry thought as he walked along the dungeon corridors, _my first lesson back and it just had to be Potions with Slytherin_. Already he was mentally preparing himself for the sly jokes, the whispers, the open disgust and sneers. 

Hermione squeezed his hand sympathetically as they entered the classroom and they headed to their usual seats at the back of the classroom, Harry purposely looking straight in front of him. As he walked, he noticed a shock of ice-blond hair in the corner of his eye and before he thought about it he had turned his head and his eyes met with the cool grey ones of Draco Malfoy.

He was leaning against the wall, his body angled out towards the classroom, his hair falling across his forehead. Zabini was sitting next to him, talking earnestly, but Malfoy was staring straight over his head at Harry. The brief eye contact only lasted a second and then Malfoy turned his cool gaze back to Zabini and Harry realised he had stopped in the middle of the aisle. He turned and strode up to his seat, sliding in between Dean and Ron just as Professor Snape entered the classroom.

"Potter. Don't unpack your things. You will not be sitting there today. Due to the amount of work you have missed, you will be sitting next to a more able student, one who is less likely to blow your cauldron up." Snape said as he crossed to his desk. He placed a tray of vials onto it and turned to face the class where Harry was hovering between desk and chair. "Zabini, swap places with Potter. Potter, you will be sitting next to Malfoy for the following lessons. He will also be giving you extra tutoring. This is very generous of Mr Malfoy, if you distract him or I hear any complaints then you will be cleaning up after Mr Longbottom for the rest of the year."

Neville went bright red at this, his face matching the shade of Ron's ears. Ron didn't seem to be taking the news that Zabini would be his new partner in Potions very well. Neither did Zabini for that matter who was having a whispered argument with Malfoy in their corner. Malfoy had a small crease between his eyebrows and he kept flicking his hair out of his eyes. It seemed to be Zabini doing most of the arguing. Harry was still unsure of what he was supposed to be doing and he walked slowly down his row to the main aisle. Behind him, Hermione's hand shot into the air.

Harry saw Snape try hard to ignore it but finally, with a slight twitch of his left eye, he gave in, "Yes Miss Granger?"

"Please sir, Harry could sit next to me during potions. And it would be more practical for me to tutor him."

Harry saw Zabini's face light up and Malfoy look interestedly towards Snape.

"Thank-you Miss Granger but I have decided and it is final. Potter, what are you doing standing around in the aisle? I think you have held up my class for long enough already. Sit down." Snape half-turned towards the board and then, as an after thought added, "Ten points from Gryffindor."

Harry pushed his glasses further up his nose and went to sit next to Malfoy, passing Zabini in the aisle who jostled him purposefully, almost making Harry drop his books. _Hey_, thought Harry resentfully, _it's not as if I want to sit next to him. _

_Well_, he corrected as he sat down next to the ice blond, _I didn't ask for it anyway_.

At the end of the lesson, Malfoy stood up and began packing away his notes and textbooks. Harry stared glumly at his blank parchment and sighed. It had been mainly theory that lesson and Harry had zoned out. It wasn't his fault, after years of Snape picking on him he had grown such a dislike for the subject that as soon as they began discussing lists of ingredients and the technicalities of temperature, he just began to lose focus. He realised with a start that Malfoy was staring critically down his nose at him.

"What is the third ingredient in the theoretical Bacio potion?"

Harry stared up, his mind blank as he struggled to remember. Malfoy had a piece of hair falling into his grey eyes which at that moment were focussed on Harry.

Harry looked away and tugged at one of his wristbands. "Unicorn hairs?" he asked hopefully.

Malfoy sighed and flicked his hair away from his face. "The fourth ingredient is unicorn hairs, the third is finely shaven, 80 cocoa solids dark chocolate. Honestly Potter, do you spend every potions lesson staring into space? Don't answer that, I can see by your furrowed brow and your look of stupidity that you do. You're a lost cause. I don't know why I agreed to tutor you."

"Neither do I" muttered Harry as he stood up. Malfoy ignored him and just handed him his own notes.

"Copy them out by Monday" He said imperiously ""I'll meet you here when lessons finish."

"Can't." Harry said, shouldering his bag.

"Why not?" Malfoy stopped just as he was about to turn and walk down the aisle, fixing Harry once again with his superior stare.

Harry felt uncomfortable and hated it. "Because I'm seeing my therapist, you know about my unnatural urge to kill myself?. How's eight for you?"

The corner of Malfoy's mouth curled slightly and his eye, and Harry hated to use this word in accord with Malfoy but it was the only word that fit, _twinkled_. "I do have a life you know. However, I can see that you are in dire need of my assistance so I will put off my plans for an evening."

Harry smiled unselfconsciously and stuffed Malfoy's notes into his bag. They both turned at the same time and almost got stuck in the aisle but Malfoy managed to squeeze past gracefully and stalk up the aisle towards the door where a grumpy Zabini was waiting for him next to Ron and Hermione who were looking equally disgruntled.

"Eight" Malfoy said casually when they both reached the door

"Monday" Harry said, but Malfoy had already turned and was walking down the corridor, Zabini tripping behind him.

"Why'd you have to sit next to him for?" moaned Ron as the Gryffindors began their way to the greenhouses. "He's so…such a…argh!" He made a noise of exasperation and mimed strangling someone in mid air.

"He did save Harry's life." Hermione pointed out pragmatically.

Ron let his hands fall to his sides, "Yeh but…" He trailed off sullenly.

"What was that stuff about eight on Monday?" Hermione asked tucking a strand of curly hair firmly behind her ear and taking one of Ron's hands in a way that Harry wasn't supposed to see.

"I'm meeting him for a tutoring session on Monday" Harry said, looking away towards Hagrid's hut, feeling a pang of jealousy at how close Ron and Hermione were getting.

"But you've got a therapists session on Monday don't you?" Hermione said slightly sharply.

"Yes, I do know my own schedule Hermione." Harry snapped back "That's why I'm meeting him at eight."

He felt Hermione stiffen beside him and turned round just in time to see Ron give her hand a squeeze and shoot her one of his characteristic lop-sided grins that said equally as clearly 'isn't Harry being silly. Oh well, let's pretend he wasn't horrible because other wise he might try to kill himself again.' Harry looked away again quickly.

"I wish Snape had let me tutor you." Hermione said after a while. Harry made a non committal noise. The truth was, he was rather glad Snape had put him with Malfoy; Malfoy could be an insufferable git at times but at least Harry wouldn't be stuck with Hermione shooting him worried glances, sucking in her cheeks and trying not to show him how exasperated she was getting at his incompetence.

* * *

The rest of the day passed quickly enough. The only incidence happened at lunchtime when Harry refused to go to the Great Hall and Hermione and Ron had been so sickeningly pleading and worried about him that he had snapped and shouted at them. Again. He had felt so guilty that he ended up going to lunch anyway even though he didn't feel like eating anything. 

At dinner the hall was full of high-spirited children yelling and laughing at the prospect of a whole weekend free of lessons. The Professors were warning that the heat wave was forecast to break on Sunday – Trelawney was flapping around school with a great black umbrella telling anyone who listened that doom was going to come upon their heads in the shape of thunder and lightening – and everyone was determined to make the most of the last day of the heat wave. There was whispered talk of skinny-dipping at midnight, gilly-weed pilfering for underwater adventures, picnics in the forbidden forest and all other manner of other, mostly illegal, stuff. Ginny sat down beside him before anyone else could and her constant chattering throughout the meal was a comforting background noise to Harry's own morbid thoughts.

Over the last days in the medical room, left to his own devices, Harry's thoughts had turned more and more often to Sirius and to his own life. What had Sirius been thinking as he was hit with that curse – such a simple curse, so simple. Nobody should be killed by such a simple curse – he was always so full of life, so loud and determined to make the most of things. Harry wondered what Sirius would have thought of him, Harry, if he had known that Harry would try to kill himself. What would his parents think? Were they all turning in their graves? Harry screwed his eyes as he realised that none of them had graves, they were all in limbo somewhere he could never visit them, somewhere he could never sit and talk to them, grieve properly. Ginny didn't seem to notice that he was in mental torment and just kept on talking happily around her mouthfuls of apple crumble. And what about Harry? It didn't even seem to have sunk in properly that he had tried to kill himself. As many times as he lifted up the corners of his cuffs to stare at the ugly scars crossing his wrists – Harry was beginning to hate them already – he could hardly believe it. He'd though about it so many times, when he was lying on his bed in Privet drive, in Hogwarts, his razor between his fingers, or other times, smoking a cigarette at the top of the astronomy tower, above the clouds on his broom. How easy it would be to let go, just let reality and all of it's problems slip from him, let other people take the responsibility. But then there had always been something holding him back, something to catch onto and hold him in place. Sometimes it was Ron or Hermione, sometimes his own hero's sense of responsibility, his own love of life, sometimes he would see Sirius' eyes in front of him or a letter from Lupin. But that day in the forest…he had killed himself almost by accident, his skin had been so easy to tear, he had felt nothing as his blood flowed away, nothing until Malfoy…Harry clenched his fists and glanced across at the Slytherin table where Malfoy was laughing and talking with his friends. He glanced up, his face laughing and caught sight of Harry looking at him. His eyes became serious and a crease appeared between his eyebrows. Harry tore his gaze away. There had been nothing then to hold him here, he had felt he was floating away, escaping. And the problem was, now he had done it once, it seemed so easy, too easy. Killing yourself should be hard Harry thought bitterly, you should have to put thought and effort into it. What he needed was something to keep him here, something that he couldn't leave, something he wouldn't want to leave. Hermione and Ron were becoming more and more wrapped up in each other and there was no one else he could see to turn to, no one else who was important enough. Harry suddenly felt a sense of restlessness and a need to scream. For a moment he was scared he was about to explode. He looked down and noticed that his hands were still clenched and that they were white and shaking. He stood up abruptly, startly Ginny who stopped in the middle of what she was saying in order to stare up at him.

"Harry?" She asked quietly, gently.

Harry turned, stepped over the bench and stormed out of the Hall.

It was only as he turned the corner of the school building that he realised he was being followed. _I need something to anchor me_. He swung round on his heel. _Something important_. Ginny stopped behind him, her pretty round face staring expectantly, almost scared, into his. _Someone special_. Harry felt reckless, there was a dizzying emptiness inside him that he had to fill or he might die. Shocking even himself he stretched out his hands and grabbed Ginny's face and with rough gentleness brought her up to his own lips. She held very still as he kissed her, pouring his passion, his frustration into her lips. He pulled away finally and she stood, dazed on the grass in front of him, the sunset lighting up her freckles and giving her skin a soft glow. She really was very pretty, Harry thought abstractly.

"Will you go out with me?" he asked, the words out of his mouth before he had even thought them.

Her eyes lit up and she smiled, her bluey-green eyes crinkling at the edges. "Yes" She said happily.

"Good," the reckless feeling was gone and all Harry could feel was a growing sense of unease and utter horror at what he had just done "Um, well, I'll see you later. I have to go now, uh…potions homework…and stuff."

Harry almost ran past her and through the corridors until he got to his own dorm where he collapsed onto the bed. "Oh shit," he murmured into the sheets, "What have I done?"

* * *

Draco looked up and met the green eyes of one Harry Potter. The look in them knocked all the laughter out of him. They were so fierce, so intense that for a moment Draco felt an irrational shiver of fear. He recognised that look, it was the one Potter had worn when they had been fighting in the forbidden forest. Fighting for his life, Draco thought bitterly, a crease appearing in between his eyebrows. Potter looked away and Draco returned to his friends. Pansy was chattering crazily about the next party she was organising. 

"You will come won't you Draco babes?" she asked, smiling over at him, her lipsticked lips parting to reveal sharp white teeth.

"Course" he said, "I never miss your parties Panse, you know that."

She smiled at him again, which was quite unsettling, and turned to talk to a girl in the year below them – very pretty, with almond eyes, coffee skin and long black eyes. Draco had had a few intimate moments with her in various cupboards at various parties. – when suddenly the girl drew in a sharp breath along with a few other people in the hall. Draco turned to see Potter standing at the Gryffindor table, his eyes burning and fists clenched. He had that look, Draco reflected, that meant he was either about to do something very stupid or very brave. Either way the outcome didn't look good. Suddenly Potter turned, stepped over the bench and strode out of the hall, apparently unaware that he held the attention of most of it's occupants. The doors swung shut behind him only to be flung open again as someone Draco recognised as the youngest Weasely dashed after Potter. The Hall erupted into talk and speculation.

"What happened?" asked Greg who had looked up from his food long enough to notice that something had happened in the atmosphere of the hall.

"Where do you think he's gone?" asked Pansy

"He's probably gone to off to try and top himself again. And this time me and Drake won't be there to save his skinny arse. Wonder what method he'll choose this time, eh Draco?"

"Hmm," Draco said with feigned casualness, "I'd say a one way trip down from the top of the Quidditch posts don't you think?"

His friends laughed and began talking about something else. But Draco couldn't forget the look on Potter's face. He hadn't looked suicidal but he'd looked as though he might do something stupid if he wasn't prevented. For a moment Draco entertained the thought of going after him but dismissed it. _What am I?_ He thought, _his nanny?_

He tuned back into the conversation and tried to forget about Potter and his general _stupidness_.

* * *

"Well, I followed him out of the hall and he went outside of the castle and he was walking really fast and I thought, I don't know, that he might try to kill himself again or something, so I ran to catch up with him –" 

"Which way was he going?"

"Towards the Quidditch pitch so anyway I –"

"Did you think he was going to try to hang himself off the posts because that's what some of the Slytherins were saying."

"Yes. No. I can't remember, but anyway, he was walking really fast and then he must have heard me behind him because suddenly he turns around and then he just stands there for a couple of moments staring at me. And I've stopped too, and we're just standing in front of each other looking into each others eyes and the sun is setting and his face is all sort of dark and brooding and his glasses are sort of reflecting the sun and then he gets this really tender look in his eyes –"

"How could you tell what his eyes looked like if his glasses were reflecting the light?"

"I just could. You can't explain these things Zoë. So anyway, he gets this really tender look in his eyes and he takes a step forward and I sort of know what's coming by know so I just stand there, holding my breath. And then he takes my face in both of his hands – like this – and then he bands really close and kisses me!!"

"Oh my god! Oh my god! Giinnyyyyy! Eeeeeeeeeee!!"

Zoe falls off the bed making high pitched shrieking noises while Ginny tries to hush her.

"Shh, shh, you'll wake the others. You haven't heard the best bit yet."

"I can't believe Harry Potter kissed you! You'll be the envy of all the girls in Hogwarts! That's like every girl's dream! Apart from Draco Malfoy of course…"

Zoë's eyes take on a dreamy glaze and Ginny makes a face.

"Draco Malfoy is a selfish, self obsessed bastard." She states superiorily "Harry Potter is nothing like him. He is ten times better than him."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, go on! Get to the best bit."

"Ok, so he kisses me and then he takes a step back and just looks at me again and then he says 'Will you go out with me'"

There is a shocked silence on the bed. Finally, Zoe manages to get out a strangled "What did you say?"

"Yes!"

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!"

"Shhh!"

Both girls fall off the bed this time in a tangle of giggling, squeaking limbs and covers.

* * *

It is a very bad idea, Harry decided as he walked down the corridor to the kitchens, to skip dinner and then spend hours worrying yourself into a frenzied mixture of panic and hunger. Worrying, he has discovered, can work up quite an appetite. 

The corridor where the kitchen portrait-hole was a little less dusty than the other corridors in the dungeon and there was a slight smell of warm bread, of sauces and cooking. Warming smells, the sort that Harry was never greeted with in the mornings of his childhood. Visiting the kitchens always reminded him of how things could have been. He tried not to dwell on it as he reached the large painting that masked the hole to the kitchen. Since he'd first discovered the kitchen, he had visited it regularly during the nights when he couldn't or didn't want to sleep. The food was a way to ward off the nightmares and the comforting glows of the fires and the cheerful servitude of the house elves all helped to soothe him. He had fallen asleep in the kitchens many times before.

Harry entered the kitchens and closed his eyes for a moment, soaking up the warmth from the fires. He smiled as the worries seemed to slip away from his shoulders and he relaxed. Suddenly, he felt another person's eyes on him. He opened his eyes and looked around the kitchen. House elves scurried about in their usual manner preparing that mornings breakfast, the fires roared quietly in their hearths, there were all the tables, laid out directly underneath the corresponding ones in the Great Hall above them, and there, sitting at his usual place at the Slytherin table, staring up at Harry with an inscrutable gaze, was Draco Malfoy.

"If you're looking for knives, don't bother. They won't give them to you. I had enough trouble getting this." He gestured with a knife he held in his left hand, his voice slow and drawling, betraying no surprise or annoyance. For the first time Harry noticed that some of the house elves ears were smoking slightly. Somehow, he couldn't muster up enough energy to care.

"What are you doing here?" he asked tiredly as he walked down the stairs to the main floor of the kitchen.

"I could ask you the same thing. I thought you were dead. We were all sure you'd gone off to kill yourself at dinnertime."

A house elf Harry didn't recognise approached him nervously and Harry asked for hot crumpets with butter and jam and honey. The house elf scurried off, its pillow case dragging a little on the floor behind it but Harry called it back, adding a bar of chocolate and a large glass of warm milk to his list. He needed comfort food. After a couple more seconds of deliberation, he went and sat opposite Malfoy.

"Well as you can see, I didn't kill myself" Harry said awkwardly after a few minutes of silence and Malfoy smiled.

"Obviously the effort of abstaining is very hungry making"

He cut a block of foreign looking cheese with an ivory-handled cheese knife and there was an array of different types of crackers laid out on the table. They sat in silence, Harry watching Malfoy's fingers and the gently rhythm of slicing. His food was brought to him by another house elf who bowed very low and then backed away, leaving them alone. Harry bit into one of his crumpets, the sweet jam and warm bread filling his senses. When he finished his first crumpet he looked up to see Malfoy lifting his first cracker to his mouth, the cheese laid on it carefully.

"Cheese give you nightmares you know" Harry said

"I know." Malfoy said and bit into the cracker. They sat in amiable silence for countless long minutes, each boy lost in his own thoughts until they had each finished their food and all that was left was a large bar of Honeyduke's finest lying on the table between them. Harry snapped it in half and offered one half to Malfoy.

He looked at it for a second then took it, his long pale fingers brushing slightly against Harry's and sending a shiver up Harry's arm.

"So why are you here?" Harry asked.

Malfoy tilted his head slightly and stared at his chocolate. "Couldn't sleep." He said carefully. He looked up, "What about you? Do you make it a habit to skip supper and then eat crumpets at 2 o'clock in the morning?"

Harry took a long slurp at his drink and then placed it down onto the table, his eyes still fixed on it. "I couldn't sleep either." He said. Malfoy made no comment and Harry darted his eyes upwards only to find the boy smiling in silent laughter.

"What?"

"You have a milk moustache" Malfoy said after a few seconds, "And you looked so serious."

"Better?" Harry said grinning, wiping the milk off onto the sleeve of his T-shirt.

"Much" Malfoy smiled back.

That sat for a while longer, chatting about school, potions, food – "You've eaten Bull's bollocks?!" "They're a delicacy in Italy" – when suddenly Harry said,

"I never said thank-you."

Malfoy looked up from his last piece of chocolate, a quizzical expression on his face, "For what?" Harry felt his face grow warmer and felt slightly embarrassed.

"For saving my life."

"Oh that, of course. Well, you know, all in a days work, saving maidens in distress and all that."

"Oh yeah, course."

"Although you owe me a shirt." Malfoy smirked and Harry laughed,

"You can have it back if you want."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow "I was thinking more along the lines of Thank-you oh Wonderful Malfoy for saving my life, I will now be your willing slave and do anything for you, including buying you a brand new shirt of the finest white silk with four buttons up the sleeves and back panelling."

"Hmm," Harry stood up, also smiling, "I wouldn't hold your breath."

Malfoy laughed as they walked out of the kitchen together. They walked up the hallway and parted when the got to the main dungeon corridor. Harry deliberated saying goodbye as he walked towards the well lit entrance hall. He turned around at the end but Malfoy had already disappeared.

**Reviews!**


	4. chapter 4

**ok. sorry this chapter took so long. i've had SO MUCH work. and my computer fucked up again. and i was in two plays (but i've finished them both now thankfully) and my brother's been visiting from korea. but it was my birthday on wednesday so i thought i would give myself a present by updating. but i didn't get round to it till today. **

**here's the deal: short chapters or long chapters? short chapters i can write quickly and update faster, longer chapter would take longer (obviously) but might ultimately be more enjoyable for you readers. You decide! review and tel me what you want. **

**HPfreakout****Talons****Kougagurl666****Crowley Black****Mika-Kitty666****D-daygirl****the conjugial angel**  
**- thanks, i'm glad you liked it, and as you can see, more has arrived!**

**TheSecretCharacter, ****Dark lil Draco****- i liked the kitchen scene too, heehee, Harry with a milky moustache.**

**prosthetic.ballerina****empath89****Reptilian Goddess****Shadow00****-more slashyness on its way between Harry and Draco. there will also be a bit more Harry/ginny, draco/blaise(but not too much...)**

**sorry i didn't reply to all your reviews but i did try and i do read all of them and they make me happy :) so keep reviewing.  
**

The weekend passed slowly for Harry; word that he had asked out Ginny within 24 hours of being let out of the medical ward had travelled round the school like wild fire. There were also rumours that they had had sex that very night, not helped by Peeves telling anyone who would listen that he had seen them, and the fact that when anyone asked Ginny about it she just giggled and went pink. The heat wave continued and the lake steamed in the sun, students stretched out along its banks like beached whales, their skins roasting. Harry didn't notice Malfoy or any of the other Slytherins at the lake side and he wasn't sure if he was happy or sad. He wanted to see Malfoy again and was almost looking forward to their Monday meeting. He was dreading however, his meeting with his therapist. While everyone else in the whole school was wearing sleeveless tops or t-shirts, Harry was wearing his usual long-sleeved shirt. The second years and first years who comprised his first official fan club thought that this was uber cool and had taken to wearing wrist-bands as well.

The weather on Sunday morning was no less hot but there were grey clouds flying in from the mountains and there was the heavy, muggy feeling that meant the weather was going to break. Harry woke up late and found the dorm empty and the sounds of people laughing floating up from the grounds. He was reminded suddenly of lying in the hospital wing. How long ago was that now? It felt like years. He stumbled out of bed and tripped to the showers. He had stayed in the kitchens until 3 o'clock the night before. He wasn't sure why, although he had the slightest hope that Malfoy might show up. He hadn't and after having pulled off everything apart from his boxers Harry had fallen into bed without even getting under the covers.

Harry peered at his watch, bringing it close to his eyes. It was almost 11 o'clock. They usually served breakfast late at the weekends but by 11:30 they would have packed away and be preparing for lunch. Harry struggled, blind into his clothes, grabbing a pair of black baggy trousers and a crumpled white shirt. He couldn't be bothered to put shoes and socks on and he couldn't for the life of him remember where he'd left his glasses and so, aware of time slipping away from him, he made his way blind down to the great hall.

Draco sat at the Slytherin table sipping black coffee. "Why do they have to serve breakfast at such a god awful time in this place?" he complained to Blaise who was sitting on his right. Blaise shrugged and took a gulp of his orange juice, followed by a large bite of his toast. Draco wrinkled his nose. "How can you eat? I feel sick just looking at you, Blaise." Blaise looked up from his toast and grinned, crumbs stuck to his chin and between his teeth. "That's not what you said last night" he leered. Draco snorted and turned away, unable to stop the corners of his mouth from turning up. The great hall was mostly empty, the only people being some very hung-over seventh years and people who just couldn't be bothered to move outside. The teachers' table was totally empty. The door at the front of the hall opened but Draco didn't pay it much attention until Blaise poked him in the shoulder blade and pointed, "Hey, look, Potty's forgotten his glasses." He snorted. Draco turned and saw who it was who had entered the hall.

Harry Potter stood in the entrance to the great hall, his large white shirt sleeves falling over his hands so that only his fingers could be seen, slightly open at the top, usual baggy trousers slipping off his hips, bare feet poking out at the bottom. Blaise had been right and he was wearing no glasses, his hair sticking to his forehead in wet licks. Draco had expected Potter to look like a mole without his glasses but surprisingly he didn't. He looked much younger and innocent as if he had never seen any of the things he had seen, nor known any of the things he knew. He made his way carefully to the Gryffindor table with none of his customary power. He sat down at the end directly opposite where Draco and Blaise were seated at the Slytherin table. Blaise sniggered "Merlin, he really must be blind without his glasses." Draco laughed quietly too, and watched as Potter felt his way to the coffee pot, and pouring himself a cup of coffee. He spoiled it by pouring milk into it. He hadn't noticed the two Slytherins watching him.

"Hey Potter!" Blaise surprised Draco and Potter by yelling, "You looking forward to our match? Looking forward to getting beaten?"

Potter looked directly at Draco, although Draco was sure that all he was was a pale blond blur to the other boy.

"Yeah I'm looking forward to it," he called back, "Although don't you mean us beating you? Because when was the last time you won Zabini? You can't even shoot a quaffle straight."

Draco felt Blaise shift behind him but didn't take his eyes off Potter.

"Oh yeah? Well at least I _can_ shoot. You can't even kill yourself properly."

Draco knew this didn't make sense and saw Potter turn back to his breakfast. He felt like laughing at them both.

"Want to practise for the match?" Blaise called after a second's silence. A red blur shot past Draco's right ear, straight at Potter. It was one of the small grilled tomatoes that had been put out for breakfast three hours earlier. Blaise levitated it so that it flew round Potter's head, bumping him occasionally and flying in faster and faster loops. Potter ignored it and tried to drink his coffee. But Blaise wouldn't leave him alone.

"What's the matter Potter? Can't catch it?"

Potter looked straight at them from under his eyebrows and, quick as a flash, stuck up his hand, the tomato hitting it and squishing against his palm easily. Potter smirked and began to lick the juice off, never taking his eyes of Draco. Draco watched, fascinated as Potter's pink tongue came out and lapped at the red juice dribbling across his palm. Finally, he popped the tomato into his mouth. He chewed carefully, swallowed, and then grinned evilly.

"Thanks"

Blaise turned around, huffing in disgust. Draco laughed, "Want another one?" he called, whipping out his wand and shooting another baby tomato at the raven haired boy.

"Ok." He said, catching it easily. Draco flew a few more at Potter and he caught them just as easily, his seeker reflexes kicking in immediately. Draco noticed that Potter was only using his thumb, middle and fore finger to catch the tomatoes from the air, using his baby finger and ring finger to hold up his sleeve. Draco flew one last tomato at Potter. It was higher than the others had been and the other boy had to reach high above his head to catch it. As he did, his fingers slipped and his sleeve fell down revealing his bare arm. The tomato was forgotten in his hand as the tomato juice trickled down Potter's arm, weaving alongside scars and cuts of the kind Draco had never seen, not even on his father who had been through the most famous wizarding war of that century. His eyes were invariably drawn to Harry's wrist but it was still covered by it's customary wrist band.

Potter stood up abruptly and his sleeve fell back down. "Nice playing with you." He said, his eye burning behind his fringe, he turned and walked straight out of the hall. It was only after he had left that Draco realised Blaise had been cat calling and the people who had been sitting around were talking loudly about what they had just seen.

* * *

Excluding his breakfast – but Harry was trying not to think about that – Sunday had been boring as ditch-water for Harry and Monday hadn't been much better. He had lain awake until the small hours of the morning thinking about breakfast and squeezing his eyes together in embarrassment. He sat through his lessons on Monday, thinking about the evening with a mixture of apprehension and looking-forwardness. With the help of Ginny, he had found his glasses under his bed in one of his shoes. They had then spent a good half hour making out in the shadows of the boys dorm, his glasses forgotten on the bedside table.

Last lesson had to be potions and Harry sat next to Malfoy, unconsciously gripping the cuffs of his shirt. Harry tried to concentrate on what Professor Snape was saying and actually managed to take notes. However, when it came to making the potion, despite having Malfoy giving him hints occasionally, he still managed to muck it up. It needed a lot of concentration and Harry just didn't feel up to it that day. Everyone else seemed to manage it, even Ron. Only Harry and Neville failed.

"Perhaps it was you I should have paired with Malfoy," Snape sneered as he looked at the strange viscous potion in Neville's cauldron, disappearing it immediately.

Harry's only consolation at the end of the terrible lesson was that because of the nature of the potion they had been making, Draco hadn't been able to talk to him about yesterday.

* * *

Harry walked out of Potions, not waiting for Ron or Hermione, heading straight to the dorms where he dumped his bags and changed into different clothes. His heart was thumping double-time as he made his way to the infirmary. There was a witch sitting at the table staring out of the window, her back to Harry, short brown hair just brushing her shoulders. She didn't notice Harry come in and he stood for a while and then coughed.

"Hello, I'm, um, Harry"

"Oh hello Harry, sorry I didn't notice you there. I'm Professor Waterman"

The witch at the table stood up and turned around quickly, her hair flying out around her. Harry looked up into her eyes. She was a wizard. For a moment Harry was too shocked to shake the outstretched hand but noticed it just in time and took it with his own. Professor Waterman's hand was warm and dry and the silver rings that he wore were smooth and cool. He was young and had tanned skin and a wide but slightly nervous smile. His voice was lilting and gentle.

"Sit down," he smiled. Harry sat down in the chair opposite, looking at the table. There was a large A3 pad, some sketching pencils and pens, a vase with a single flower in it and a few bars of chocolate, one of which was already open, a few chocolate crumbs scattered across the table top. Professor Waterman saw him looking at the chocolate and blushed.

"I couldn't resist." he smiled and offered Harry some. "I usually hold my sessions in a room, so this is a bit new to me too. Have you had therapy before?"

"No, this is my first time. I haven't ever tried to kill myself before."

Harry expected him to look shocked or scandalised as people usually did when he threw his almost-suicide into the conversation. The professor didn't flicker, just broke off another bit of chocolate and popped it into his mouth.

"Mmmm," he murmured, "Well I hope you enjoy your therapy with me. I used to dread going to my therapist, I would hate for you to dread our sessions."

Harry felt surprised, and tried not to show it. He was supposed to enjoy these sessions? They were _therapy_ sessions for Merlin's sake. And Prof. Waterman had had therapy? Weren't therapists supposed to be sane? They shouldn't need therapy.

"You had therapy?" he asked bluntly.

"Oh yeah. You're not the only one who's tried to kill themselves you know. Or thought about killing someone else, it's perfectly normal."

"Who said I'd ever thought about killing someone else?" Harry said defensively.

"No one." he smiled, "I tried to kill myself by taking an overdose. I wouldn't recommend it, very messy and unsophisticated. I woke up a year later in hospital. Had to go through the whole of year 10 again." he shook his head and offered Harry some more chocolate. Harry felt strange that the professor had shared these private details with him. There was a silence.

"I slit my wrists." He said abruptly, shocking himself. He twisted his face and let out a small laugh to cover his embarrassment. That was new too, since when was he embarrassed about talking about killing himself?

"What's funny?"

"It's just, well you know all this already don't you? It's why I'm here isn't it. It's stupid to tell you."

"No it's not. I'm here because Dumbledore thinks it's important for you to have someone to talk to. You don't _have_ to be here and you can walk out of that door anytime you feel like it. Don't worry about me, I get paid no matter what."

Harry glanced at the door, it wasn't locked, there was no three-headed dog guarding it or spells sealing it. In fact the only spell in the little cubicle was the silencing spell that the Professor had cast a few moments before.

"Professor Waterman—"

"Please call me Adrian."

"ok…Adrian, did you say year ten? Did you go to muggle school?"

"Yup, Hogwarts wouldn't have me see. I wasn't magical enough." There was no bitterness in the therapist's voice, just a calm matter-of-factness, "Everyone thought I was a squib, the only magic I could do was weak levitation charms with my brother's wand. My aunt was a muggle so I lived with her and went to muggle school. Hated it."

"I if hadn't got into Hogwarts I'd be living with my aunt and uncle and going to a muggle school. Hogwarts saved me. Depending on the way you look at it."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if I hadn't come to Hogwarts I never would have tried to kill myself, or I would have done it sooner. Either one"

"So you think you tried to kill yourself because you came to Hogwarts?"

Harry looked directly at Adrian's face. The drizzle outside had stopped and weak sunlight was coming in through the wet window, lighting up his high cheekbones and the highlights in his hair.

"Are you here to listen to me just talk or to question me and pass info onto Dumbledore about why poor Harry tried to kill himself?"

"A therapist never tells anyone about their patients. No one. I'm here to help you, not tell your teachers on you. I am here to listen to whatever you want to tell me."

"What if I don't want to tell you anything?"

"That's ok too."

They sat in silence opposite each other, Harry fidgeting with his wrist bands, Adrian eating chocolate and watching Harry fiddle with his wristbands.

"What's the pad for?" Harry said, gesturing towards the pad on the desk between them. Outside it was getting dark.

"For you to write, draw, paint in. Tear up. Whatever you want to. It's yours. Sometimes I'll set you an activity to do in it, but otherwise it's up to you"

"Can I do something in it now?" Harry asked for the sake of something to do. He had no idea what he would do in it but if it meant he could escape the piercing gaze of his therapist then he would do it. He was surprised when Adrian answered:

"No."

"but you said I could do whatever I wanted in it…"

"you can use it next session. This one is up."

Harry looked down at his watch and realised that he was right. They both stood up and Adrian smiled, his teeth shining in the light from the sconces.

"See you on Thursday Harry."

"Uh…bye."

Harry walked out of the cubicle and into the corridor, towards dinner. Well, he thought, that hadn't gone so bad…he hoped. Now for the next hurdle of the night…

* * *

"You're late."

"Sorry oh master of the dungeons, I left my potions book upstairs and had to collect it. I hope you will excuse my terrible lapse of concentration."

"Potter, you live your life in a lapse of concentration, I'm surprised you haven't fallen through the stairs yet this term."

"Who said it was only the potions books that made me late?" Potter grinned as he slid into the seat opposite Draco, his knees bumping against his.

"It's not funny Potter, I've been sitting down here freezing my arse off for the past 15 minutes. What happened, did you really fall down the stairs?" Draco felt a sly look come into his eye, "Or did you just run into your girlfriend?"

The smile was wiped off Potter's face instantly and some small part of Draco felt guilty. The other, bigger part felt pleased – what right had Potter to keep him waiting when he could be snuggling up withhis friendsin front of the Slytherin common room fire?

"Are you going to be helping me with my potions or are you just going to sit there coming up with witty retorts all evening?"

"So you think my retorts are witty do you?" Draco smiled but Potter's face remained blank.

"Just get on with it Malfoy, I'm enjoying this about as much as killing myself."

"Funny, I thought you quite enjoyed that."

"Shut up."

"Ok, Ok." Draco sensed he'd gone too far, but was too proud to back track. "Stop wasting time Potter and get out your cauldron. We're going to remake that cleansing potions you ballsed up in Potions today."

* * *

Draco was bored. He was sitting on one of the desks in the lotus position, flicking bits of old ingredients at the side of Potter's head.

"You know, I can't make this potion if you keep distracting me. Aren't you supposed to be helping me or something?"

"I'm doing the 'or something' part. And besides, you don't need help, you're doing fine. I think you just get panicky in Potions and that distracts you. That and Snape is always hovering over your shoulder. He nearly put me off today as well."

Potter was looking awful, Draco decided. More awful than usual even. His stubble had turned into almost into a scrappy beard and while some people might say it made him look ruggedly handsome, Draco thought it just made him look like a tramp. And his hair! It was terrible. It needed to be sorted out.

"Potter, why haven't you shaved? You're beginning to look like a tramp, and I mean that in the worst possible way."

"Thanks," Harry said distractedly, the tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth and his forehead creased in concentration as he added the final ingredient and stirred the potion with his wand. He sighed when the potion turned a crystal-blue colour. "I've finished it."

"That's great, but seriously, what are you going to do about the fur that's beginning to grow on you chin. Also I think a small rodent has crawled onto your upper lip, died and begun decomposing without you noticing. What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing." Said Potter irritably, bottling his potion and beginning to pack away his things. "I'm not allowed to go near razors. Might decide to slit open my wrist/neck/stomach."

"There are spells you can cast you know. I'm surprised Weasely hasn't taught you, mind you he probably doesn't know either. Not big on cleanliness are the Weasleys."

"Oi.."

"Don't get all self righteous, you know I'm right."

To Draco's surprise Potter let it drop and finished packing his things away. Draco watched as the pale hands gently picked up each glass bottle and silver instrument, only to drop them carelessly into his bag. Potter turned and leant against his desk.

"You going to show me then?"

"The spells? No."

"Why not?" a petulent look had come into Potter's eyes, one that meant give me what I want or I'll thcream and I'll thcream and I'll thcream till I'm thick.

"Because they're useless if you want a close shave. And you look like you could do with a clean shave. Razors are best for that."

"Can't use razors, that was the point of the spells, remember."

"Ah but I can."

"And your point is? Other than to rub it in my face."

"I could shave you."

Potter's face lost it's stubborn air and instead one of shock and wariness came onto it.

"You would?"

"I could. I have a brilliant pair of razors in my dorm. I could shave you right now. I don't expect your girlfriend enjoys kissing that bristly face of yours. I'd feel like a good Samaritan"

He sneered on 'girlfriend' and Potter frowned, the sneer not lost on him. Draco felt a twinge of guilt – the guy was suicidal for god's sake. But then Potter smiled and raised his eyebrows "Thanks. She has complained about it. And how do you know the word good Samaritan?"

"I am taking muggle studies you know. Accio Apparatius shaving kit." Draco pointed his wand at the desk in front of him and his razors appeared along with his shaving foam, a towel, and a basin.

"You're taking muggle studies!"

Draco rolled his eyes and began unwrapping his razors. A small razor fell out of the folds of material and he quickly pocketed it before Potter noticed it. "You're taking muggle studies!"

"Yes, know the enemy and all that."

Potter looked slightly alarmed at that and Draco laughed "I'm joking Potter. Joking."

Potter didn't look any more reassured but turned his attention to the shaving kit in front of him.

"That was NEWT level magic wasn't it?"

"Yes, my father taught it to me."

Draco filled the basin with warm water from a tap in the corner and brought it over to Harry who seated himself on a chair in front of it.

* * *

Harry couldn't remember anyone touching his neck, chin and face so gently and carefully before. His mother must have he supposed, before she died. Hermione occasionally put a hand to his cheek in a pitying, sympathising way which he hated. Cho had touched him there once, when they had kissed. It couldn't really be described as careful though. It had been an accident he thought. When he was kissing Ginny she usually kept her hands to his shoulder and back region. But the way Malfoy was carefully massaging the cream into his chin, jaw line and under his chin was careful and gentle. Harry Sat Very Still, he felt slightly awkward now and didn't really know why he'd agreed to do this. He'd already been through all the women in his life who had (or hadn't) touched his neck and face, but Malfoy was a boy. The only times another boy had touched his face was when Dudley or one of his friends were imbedding their fists into it. Ron had never touched his face or neck as far as Harry could remember. He might have accidentally brushed it in a 'oh dear I am caught in devil's snare I will wave my arms around a lot and see if I can find Harry' sort of way or in a 'A giant dog has just chewed my leg off, I will put my arm around Harry for a bit of support'. But never intentionally. Boys just didn't touch each other's necks. But Malfoy was quite happily touching Harry's. Harry wasn't sure whether to be alarmed or nonchalant about it. So he just Sat Very Still, hardly breathing, as Malfoy gently scraped the Razor in a downward stroke across Harry's cheek.

Neither talked and the only sound in the room was the scraping of the razors across Harry's skin, and the quiet splashing of water. Harry wasn't sure how long it lasted for but after what felt like hours or seconds, Malfoy was almost finished. Suddenly, the door to the dungeon crashed open, shattering the quiet and causing Harry to stop Sitting Very Still and jump, and causing Malfoy's sharp razor to cut through the skin on Harry's jaw line.

"Shit Blaise," Malfoy exploded, "Now look what you made me do."

"It wasn't your fault" Harry said starting to stand up.

"Sit down" Malfoy ordered Harry, "I'm not letting you go 'till I've finished and I've dressed that cut."

"It's just a nick" said Harry, sitting back down nonetheless. Malfoy dipped the razor back into the water and shaved off the last strip of stubble from Harry's chin. He then splashed Harry's face with after-shave, making Harry wince as it went into his cut.

"Draco?"

"What do you want Blaise?" Malfoy pulled a piece of tissue and was a bout to stick it onto Harry's cut when Harry jumped up, pulling a roll of plasters out of his pocket. Malfoy raised an eyebrow quizzically and Harry shrugged.

"I always carry them with me…just in case." He said, selecting a small one and sticking it over his cut – or where he felt the cut to be, he couldn't actually see it.

"Ah…I see."

"Draco" whined Zabini again.

"What is it?" the blond snapped.

"When are you coming back to the common room? Everyone's waiting for you and Pansy is getting irritable."

"Can't you see I was busy? I'm supposed to be tutoring Potter, remember"

"What, does he need teaching how to shave?"

"No, I offered. Anyway, I told you all I would be back late tonight, I don't see why Pansy had to send you for me."

Harry felt a bit surplus to requirements and wondered if he could slip out without being noticed. Malfoy looked highly annoyed.

"Well who better to send?" grinned Zabini. To Harry's surprise, Malfoy laughed and through a towel at Zabini's head.

"Ok, I'm just coming, help me clear this stuff up will you?"

In way of response Zabini picked up the towel and threw it at Malfoy's head. Malfoy laughed and threw it back at Zabini, then noticed Harry, slowly edging his way towards the door.

"Oh, bye Potter."

"Bye"

Harry was just heading through the door when Zabini called after him,

"If you see Pansy could you tell her we'll be a while longer!" A towel was thrown at his head and the last thing Harry saw was Zabini lifting a laughing Malfoy over his head and pretending to throw him across the room. Then the door closed and he was left in the darkness of the dungeons.

**i really liked this chapter (yay, draco and blaise and wet towels, and poor oblivious little harry! heehee) tell me what you think - reveiw! please X)**


	5. chapter 5

**okay, this is just an idea of how short the short chapters would be. if you think it's too short, review and tell me and i'll make the next ones longer (or try to). thank-you to all my reviewers, i feel so loved! i can't thank you all today because i am so tired (this is what happend when you go to bed at 6:30 in the morning and then write fanfiction instead of doing your coursework). Don't forget to review, thanks!**

The common room was warm and bubbly when Harry walked in. He felt the heat as he stepped through the portrait hole and he surprised himself by smiling. Gryffindors were draped around the room on overstuffed arm chairs and pouffes and sofas, laughing, chatting, bent over pieces of parchment or chess boards. Harry spotted Hermione and Ron in the corner of the room, both bent over the same piece of Parchment, dark curly hair next to red straight hair. They were laughing and Harry considered going over and joining them, it could be so easy, just like it was in the old days, just the three of them. Then Ron turned and kissed Hermione on the lips, catching her off guard and Harry could still see the laughter in her eyes as she kissed him back. And Harry remembered that they weren't fourteen years old any more and that it could never be the three of them again it would always be the two of them and him, tagging along, occasionally risking all their lives. They broke apart and Hermione tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, blushing and giggling again. Harry could see a streak of ink on her cheek as she looked around the common room, self conscious of her small public display of affection. He was about to head straight for the stairs to the boy's dorm when she spotted him.

"Harry!"

She stood up and Ron turned in Harry's direction, a wide grin spread across his face, whether from the thrill of kissing his girlfriend in a crowded room or from seeing his suicidal best friend (Which one? Which one could it be?). Reluctantly Harry walked across towards them, his bag hanging from his shoulder and hitting his leg with a heavy thump at every step. He saw her face lose it's happy glow as he approached and she looked quizzically at him, her brow furrowed.

"What is it?" he asked when he near enough not to have to shout over the buzz of noise in the room.

"What is that?" Hermione asked quietly, one hand still on the back of her chair as though she was halfway through moving the chair to make room for Harry.

"What?"

"Harry don't fuck with me."

Hermione hardly ever swore. "Sorry? What, I don't know what you're…"

"Harry what have you done to your face?" Her voice was quiet and calm but beneath it Harry could hear a slight tremble. Ron's smile had gone.

"Nothing, I mean, well it's nothing really."

"What do you mean nothing? Harry…"

Harry was beginning to feel too hot, too near the fire. He wanted to be up in the cool solitude of the dorms. There were too many people down here.

"It's just a nick, Hermione. I'm fine." He said sharply.

"Let me see" she reached a hand out to his face and he stepped backwards hurriedly, knocking over some third year's game of wizard chess.

"No." he said, too loudly. He needed to get upstairs.

"Harry," there was an edge to Hermione's voice, one that Harry hadn't heard in a long time. He was reminded of the bossy, bushy haired girl he had instantly disliked on the train in first year but had grown to love over the years that followed.

"Hermione," he said with equal edge to his voice "I'm fine. It is a nick. I am going upstairs now."

"No you're not. Stop lying to me Harry."

"Hermione, I'm not lying to you. Why would I lie to you? What would I gain from lying to you?"

Their voices had been getting progressively louder and people were beginning to listen in. Ron was still sitting down, watching his best friend and his girlfriend row.

"Then why won't you tell me how you got that cut?"

"It's not a cut, it's a nick! And I got it by shaving, okay? That alright with you?"

"Yes. No. Argh!" Harry was shocked by the sound of sheer frustration that Hermione had made, "Why do you always force us into this Harry? Why do we always end up having rows and you running off like a wild animal? Why don't you trust us?"

"Why don't you trust me!" he shouted back, feeling trapped and hemmed in by the faces that were now turning to stare at them.

"Because you can't trust someone who tries to kill themselves!" she screamed at him.

"That's what you think I'm going to do Hermione? Kill myself again? Why would I want to do that? Maybe it's because my parents were killed by Voldemorte in an attack that I somehow survived? Or because, despite everyone saying the contrary, he rose from the dead and now wants to kill me? Or because I have to hear my mother's screams in my dreams every night? Or because I led my friends into a battle with Voldemorte in which Ron nearly died – because of me – you nearly died - because of me – andSirius _actually_ died - because of me – but which was ultimately pointless? Do you think that maybe any of those things could have been the reason, do you Hermione!"

The whole room had gone silent and Harry realised that he had been screaming and he was now only inches away from Hermione's face. Ron had scraped back his chair and was standing, about to come to Hermione's rescue. Tears rolled down Hermione's cheeks and Harry stepped backwards.

"That wasn't your fault…no one said it was your fault" she whispered.

"Yeah, so what? What difference does that make? **He's still fucking dead**!" Harry's voice started soft but he screamed the last line.

"Harry…" Ron murmured.

"Shut up." Harry was horrified to find that his eyes were watering. "You sound like a stuck record. And for your information I did cut myself while shaving, and it was an accident but next time I decide to kill myself, I'll send you a post-it note"

With that, he turned and strode out of the common room, up the stairs, his footsteps echoing on the cold stone. The door slammed.

There was a hushed silence in the common room. Then, a first year, who had watched the debacle with the wide eyes of someone new to the Life of Harry Potter, turned to his friend.

"What's a post-it note?"

**review!**


	6. chapter 6

**sorry this has taken so long to write. i've been really busy. i don't think the ending of this is very good, but i just wanted to get it uploaded so i rushed it a bit. i wanted to show Draco being evil because i don't think i made him mean enough in the past few chapters. i don't have enough time to reply to evryone's reviews (im really sorry) but thank you all so much! i really appreciate them, they are good for cheering me up in the crappy london weather and my crappy confusing life.** **:D**

"Blaise."

A wordless moan escaped the lips of the boy in front of him and Draco felt Blaise pressing himself harder into his hand. His back was hurting from being pressed up against Professor Snape's desk and he was frankly bored by the whole situation. He stopped moving his hand.

"Blaise."

"Mmmmf, don't stop."

Draco withdrew his hand from Blaise's boxers and let the elastic snap cruelly back against the other boy's abdomen. Blaise hissed in pain and pressed Draco harder against the table. Draco was getting splinters in his hands and wondered idly why Snape didn't polish his desk or at least have a leather top like his own.

"Draco" whined Blaise, pressing his erection into Draco's hip. Draco's lip curled in disgust. He shifted underneath Blaise's weight and then pushed up causing the other boy to stumble backwards.

"Pansy will be waiting." He said, walking towards where the shaving things he had been using only moments before to shave Potter. He could feel the boy who lived's ghost haunting the room and he didn't feel comfortable.

"Bastard" Blaise said, trying awkwardly to walk with his erection. He had had too many incidents like these to know better than to think that Draco would return to him. He would have to have a quick wank to prevent himself getting blue balls. He made his way to the wall, stuffing his hand into his pants, resting his forehead against the cool stone. Draco made a disgusted sound and turned back to the shaving things, tidying them with a quick wave of his wand, muttering words under his breath. An unexplainable sense of irritation had come over him.

"Hurry up" he said noticing as he turned, the damp towel still lying on the floor where they had left it when things started getting heavier. He grinned cruelly and with a flick of his wand, the towel had lifted from the floor and had smacked Blaise so accurately on the arse that it might have been held by a hand.

"Wanker." Muttered Blaise through gritted teeth.

"It would appear you are the wanker in this situation." Draco laughed evilly. Blaise just moaned and pressed his forehead harder against the cold wall. Draco turned away again and headed towards the door as he heard Blaise finishing himself off. There was a pause and Draco could hear the ragged breaths of his fuck-buddy across the room. He felt disgusted. Draco had never wanked in his life. It was a dirty and disgusting habit, performed only by people who couldn't get any. He would rather remain celibate than resort to the degrading habit that his fellow students seemed to practise so happily and with such gusto. He turned with his hand on the door knob, raising a sneering eye brow.

"Ready?"

Blaise followed him silently from the room. It was not far from the potions class room to the Slytherin common room and as Draco and Blaise walked down the draughty corridor, Draco could hear distorted fragments of a strangely familiar voice floating on the cold breeze.

"…again…..would I…Voldemorte…tack at…somehow…very…me…_actually_…me…ly pointless…reason…"

They rounded a corner in the corridor and Draco could see a third year – he never bothered to learn their names, he supposed he really should since he was a prefect but there had never been the right impetus – standing outside the portrait hole, a chameleon cloak over one arm, his wand held out in front of him, playing something to his friend who was doubled over laughing next to him.

"Play that bit again, go on, oh Merlin, it's too funny"

Obligingly, the boy rewound the voice he had recorded on his wand.

"I led my friends into a battle with Voldemorte in which Ron nearly died – because of me – you nearly died - because of me – and Sirius _actually_ died - because of me – but which was ultimately pointless? Do you think that maybe any of those things could have been the reason, do you Hermione?"

With a sickening feeling, Draco recognised the voice of Harry Potter, choked with emotion, issuing from the wand.

"Oh Merlin…" said the girl, "Do you Hermione!" she imitated before bursting into fresh giggles.

"Where did you get that?" Draco said accusingly to the boy. He clutched the wand to his chest as though Draco might try to snatch it from him, the voices continued but they were more muffled now.

"It's mine" he said

"Where did you get the soundbite from?" said Draco irritably. The girl had wisely disappeared through the portrait hole but the boy was still here and trying Draco's patience. He seemed oblivious and puffed himself up.

"The Gryffindor common room" he said importantly, "I hid there under my chameleon cloak and recorded it. Potter had a complete fit while I was there, I thought he was going to start throwing the furniture—"

Draco cut him off "I could confiscate that off you. You aren't allowed to sneak into other houses' common rooms"

The boy didn't bat an eyelid, "Parkinson sent me," he said, "I'm just returning to play it to her."

If Draco felt surprised he knew he didn't show it. "Well then what are you doing dawdling out here for? Get in there now."

The boy whispered something sulkily to his wand which stopped issuing the muffled sounds and he turned into the Slytherin common room. The long, low underground room stretched out in front of them, the fire burning high in the grate in front of them, surrounded by the silhouettes of other Slytherins, studying, talking or just sitting staring into the flames. You got a few odd balls in Slytherin, it was the in-breeding. Draco turned to the left, following the third year under the glowing green orbs that hung suspended from chains from the low ceiling. A second fire glowed in the dark and Draco could see the familiar figures of his friends. Pansy looked up from the group and rolled her eyes. She had large, green catlike eyes and as she rolled them she tilted her head to the side so that her long sleek black hair fell in a waterfall to one side.

"What's made you two so late?" she asked, ignoring the third year who stood expectantly in front of her.

"We were a bit…busy" Blaise smirked. He seemed to have forgotten that he was angry at Draco and that it had been him getting busy alone in the end.

Draco pretended he hadn't seen Pansy's raised eye brows. He knew what she'd be thinking. Instead, he slid onto one of the leather sofas, next to Goyle. Suddenly, he found Goyle's big beefy fist in front of his face. For a second he felt a flicker of shock and fear, until he realised what it was Goyle wanted. Reluctantly, he brought up his own fist, ridiculously pale compared to Goyle's mottled pink one, and half-heartedly punched Goyle's knuckles. Goyle grinned.

"Spud" he said.

Draco rolled his eyes to the heaven. When he had taken up Muggle studies at the beginning of fifth year, without his father knowing, Goyle and Crabbe had immediately joined as well. At the moment they were doing muggle hand gestures. When Draco had first found out about the 'spudding' that occurred in muggle schools and social gatherings, he had done it in an ironic way in Hogwarts. Goyle however hadn't got it. At all. And he was still doing it now when the novelty had long worn off and Draco was utterly bored of it.

"Nice to see you too Goyle" he drawled, to Pansy "Why on earth did you send that kid to the Gryffindor common room to tape their conversation?"

Pansy stuck out her bottom lip petulantly, "I was bored. You were taking too long."

"Come now Pansy, how can you have been bored with such scintillating company?"

Pansy looked pointedly around their small gathering. Goyle, Crabbe, Millicent Bulstrode, Blaise and himself. Crabbe and Millicent were playing exploding snap and Draco now noticed the scorch marks on Goyle's fingers. He laughed.

"Excuse me…" the third year shifted from one foot to the other.

"Yes?" Pansy said scathingly, "what do you want?"

The third year swallowed. "You…um…sent me to the Gryffindor common room…" he trailed off under Pansy's glare. "and...um…I have it here…"

"Is it anything good?"

"Well, Potter had a row with Granger. And Granger cried…"

Pansy's face suddenly broke into a wide smile, her eyes sparkling. It was quite scary. "Why didn't you say? Play it."

Potter's voice came floating out of the wand. He sounded strained and tired. What else was new.

"What?"

Granger's voice was high and slightly whiney.

"Harry don't fuck with me."

Comic confusion from Potter, the boy wonder wizard.

"Sorry? What, I don't know what you're…"

"Harry what have you done to your face?"

Draco suddenly realised what Granger was talking about – the nick on Potter's face. It sounded like Potter knew it too. His voice faltered.

"Nothing, I mean, well it's nothing really."

Getting more high pitched Granger, thought Draco, not good, I value my ear drums.

"What do you mean nothing? Harry…"

Potter's voice got sharper, sounded like he was getting annoyed too.

"It's just a nick, Hermione. I'm fine." He said sharply.

"Let me see" There was the sound of something crashing to the floor and pieces rolling around. Chess, thought Draco.

"No." Potter's voice cut through the background noise.

"Harry," there was an edge to Granger's voice. She's going to hit him, thought Draco gleefully.

"Hermione," Or Potter's going to hit her. "I'm fine. It is a nick. I am going upstairs now."

"No you're not. Stop lying to me Harry."

Lying? Um, why would Potter lie about going upstairs?

"Hermione, I'm not lying to you. Why would I lie to you? What would I gain from lying to you?"

Their voices were much louder now and the background noise had virtually stopped.

"Then why won't you tell me how you got that cut?"

"It's not a cut, it's a nick! And I got it by shaving, okay? That alright with you?"

Ooh, thought Draco, they are definitely going to hit each other.

"Yes. No. Argh!" Draco couldn't help but laugh out loud at the noise Granger had just made. This was cheering him up. "Why do you always force us into this Harry? Why do we always end up having rows and you running off like a wild animal? Why don't you trust us?"

"Why don't you trust me!"

Fight, fight, fight, fight, chanted Draco inside his head.

"Because you can't trust someone who tries to kill themselves!" Granger screamed.

"That's what you think I'm going to do Hermione? Kill myself again? Why would I want to do that? Maybe it's because my parents were killed by Voldemorte in an attack that I somehow survived? Or because, despite everyone saying the contrary, he rose from the dead and now wants to kill me? Or because I have to hear my mother's screams in my dreams every night? Or because I led my friends into a battle with Voldemorte in which Ron nearly died – because of me – you nearly died - because of me – and Sirius _actually_ died - because of me – but which was ultimately pointless? Do you think that maybe any of those things could have been the reason, do you Hermione?"

The background noise had completely stopped and it was pretty silent in the Slytherin common room as well. Draco no longer felt like laughing.

"That wasn't your fault…no one said it was your fault" Granger whispered.

"Yeah, so what? What difference does that make? He's still fucking dead!" Potter's voice started soft but he screamed the last line.

Calm down Potter, you're getting hysterical.

"Harry…" it was another male voice, Weasely possibly?

"Shut up." Potter's voice was slightly wobbly "You sound like a stuck record. And for your information I cut myself while shaving, but next time I decide to kill myself, I'll send you a post-it note"

There was a silence from the wand and Draco thought that it might be the end but the third year was gesturing that there was more to come.

"What's a post-it note?" "

The whole room erupted in laughter, Pansy's shrieks audible above everyone's.

"Oh that's good, that's good, play that bit where he sounds like he's crying again."

The third year willingly complied.

For the rest of the evening Draco sat listening to the sound of Potter's voice, echoing and shrieking around the Slytherin common rooms. The Slytherins had ignored it after a while and continued, and Pansy had bored of it and sent the third year away, but Draco could still hear the voice from across the room where the third year amused himself and his friends. The hours passed, they handed round a bottle of vodka, played a few games of poker and Draco didn't move from his place on the sofa. Finally, after more than his fair share of the vodka, he could stand no more.

He stood up abruptly, but no one noticed being too busy playing exploding snap with cards soaked in some meths that someone had found. When the cards exploded they set themselves alight at the same time. He strode towards the third year.

"Yeah, so what? What difference does that make? He's still fucking dead!"

"Do you know," Draco asked calmly, "How annoying that is?"

"No," said the third year, looking at Draco brazenly.

"This much" Draco reached over, snatched the wand from the third year's hand and smartly snapped it in half. He threw it at the third year "Next time, quit while you're ahead"

He then strode through the portrait hole, leaving the third year staring stupidly at his broken wand. He felt an air of satisfaction. But he hadn't finished yet.

* * *

Harry leant on the window sill, leaning into the cool wet wind that blew around the tower. His feet were cold on the stone steps but this was the only place he could smoke with the relative safety that he wouldn't be found. He took a drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke into the dark sky. His eyes were sore and stung as he kept them open. He was so tired, but he needed this smoke. What time was it? He glanced at his watch, midnight. He shivered in his pyjamas. He had lain in his bed until everyone else had gone to sleep and then crept out to roll himself a cigarette on the tower steps. Suddenly, downstairs he heard the portrait swing open. Probably some lovers sneaking in from a night on the astronomy tower. Harry leant his head against the window frame, no one had tried to talk to him and Ron had been the last to go to bed. He had been comforting Hermione in the common room. Harry felt slightly guilty but his pride and anger didn't allow him to apologise. He heard someone's gasp from downstairs and low mutterings. After a quick inward debate, he stubbed out his cigarette and made his way downstairs. What he saw shocked him. Draco Malfoy was standing in the common room, talking to a terrified second year.

"All I'm asking is that you go up and get him. What do you think I'm going to do? Kill him? Go on, stop looking like a rabbit and hurry up."

"All right Hetty?" Harry stepped in and asked quietly. The second year gazed at him adoringly and relief flooded over her face. She nodded. "You should go to bed, it's late." She nodded again, and, still nodding, she made her way quickly to the girls' stairs and ran up them.

"Well, well, speak of the devil."

"What do you want Malfoy?"

"To talk to you" he smiled dazzlingly in the darkness.

"How did you get in?"

"Your portrait is really quite easy to charm Potter, you should really get a new one, I expect that was how Black got into the dormitories. Wasn't he trying to rape Weasley or something? He died over the summer, didn't he. You seemed upset in your little tirade this evening, considering he did try to kill you."

A feeling of intense hatred washed over Harry and his feeling of tiredness fell away.

"Don't you say his name, don't you dare say his name," he ground, "Sirius loved me," Malfoy raised his eyebrows and Harry carried on viciously "like I was his son and he never tried to kill me. He was trying to kill one of _yours_."

"Really?" Malfoy brushed off the accusation and his eyes glittered evilly, "I never knew you were up to incest Potter. I didn't even know you had any relatives"

"I'm not but I know your family are into it. Isn't that why you're all so backward Malfoy?"

Malfoy turned his mouth into a sneer "Give it up Potter. Taunts don't suit you."

Harry glared at the ice blond boy in front of him. Then he recalled something. "How do you know what I said earlier?"

"Like I said, you should really do something about the security on your common room. Anyone could just walk in."

"You mean, you were here?" horror gripped Harry's heart. The thought of Malfoy being there while he shouted at Hermione was just too mortifying to think about.

"Me? No. I heard it from a little bird." He grinned evilly.

"Fuck off Malfoy," the hot anger had gone and Harry was left with the old, dull aching anger at everything.

"You think you are the only person who has lost parents to Voldemorte?" Malfoy said suddenly.

"What?"

"Your parents were stupid enough to go openly against Voldemorte, and then to keep their child in the same house as them, and then you bleat on and on about how they were killed! As if they didn't expect it! As if it was some big surprise, a shock to everybody!"

Harry felt anger boil up inside him, he would always be inferior to Malfoy in words. He couldn't even express what he wanted to say. He pulled his arm back and punched Malfoy in the face. The shocked look on Malfoy's face was priceless. Then he had whipped out his wand and suddenly Harry was lying on the floor, his arms and legs pinned to his sides. He glared up at Malfoy and felt a trickle of blood on his chin, he must have bitten his lip when he fell.

"I shouldn't have expected any better of you Potter." The blond boy was flushed and angry. "Your parents died over a decade ago. You barely even knew them and yet you're still not over their death. It's pathetic."

"Well, I know that whatever they were like, they were worth more than a hundred of you."

"Really? That puts them on a par with Longbottom then. Not so good if you ask me."

"Better than being on a par with your parents Malfoy. And where's your father?" the spell was wearing off and Harry could wiggle his toes and fingers. The look of viscous hatred Malfoy shot him was shocking.

"Shut up Potter" he hissed, before turning on his heel and marching out of the common room.

Harry was left, his limbs slowly loosening, on the floor of the empty common room. He felt deflated and exhausted. He waited until he could move properly and climbed the stairs and fell into bed.

* * *

Draco walked through the corridors of the school, keeping to the walls. He was disturbed. Not by Potter's words, he had spoken them to himself so many times they didn't have quite the same impact from other people. But by Potter's reaction to his words. And his reaction to Potter's reaction. He had always known he had a power with words. He didn't have the physique to torment other people and it was much more interesting watching people squirm after something you had said. But he could never evoke anything as satisfying as the reactions he could draw from the boy who lived. The punch had surprised him and he supposed he would have a bruise there the next morning but right now…he needed to scrub the image of the raven haired boy, lying helpless on the floor, shrouded in shadows and moonlight, that single trickle of blood on his chin.

He stormed into the Slytherin common room to find it half empty. There was a passed out Pansy in front of the fire and a few second years buzzing about on the sofas, a massive pile of Bertie Bott's every flavour beans between them. Blaise was just standing up to leave when he spotted Draco and gave him a sweet smile. Before he had blinked, Draco had him up against the wall.

"What are you doing?"

"Finishing what I started," he grinned, and kissed him.

**As always, please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

Hey guys, sorry to keep you waiting this long, but i just kinda left this story. i've still been getting reviews though so i thought i'd publish this - it's a chapter i've had for ages, and been working on very occasionally. it's been reworked many times, but i thought i'd publish it like this even though it's not as long as usual. hope you like it - don't expect anything more soon, although i still have lots of ideas, so keep the reviews coming! enough support and i may well start again, or in reference to 'since when', i may be getting a beta. who knows. enjoy!

* * *

Harry hated Thursdays. He felt as exhausted as if he hadn't rested for weeks – which come to think of it he probably hadn't – and there was still another whole day of lessons before the weekend. Two days if you counted today. Harry groaned and some third years looked at him in great alarm before scurrying as quickly as they could towards the hall. Harry was always a bit groggy in the mornings and it didn't help that Ron had stopped waking him up. Instead, he was left to sleep through until it was almost time for lessons. It meant that he had to try to wake up when everyone else did, but this proved more difficult than he had imagined. He needed more sleep and was usually so deep in slumber around the time of the other boys' awakenings that he wasn't even aware of them. Apparently, he had thrown a book at Dean's head when he'd tried to wake him up on Wednesday morning. After that, people had pretty much left him alone. After his verbal attack on Hermione on Monday, his relationship with Ron and Hermione had been strained. They were barely talking and he was treating them with careful indifference, they treating him as though he was a precious porcelain figurine – about to crack at the slightest knock. That was the way everyone treated him nowadays. _If I had known that there would be this much stuff to deal with afterwards, I would never have bothered trying to kill myself in the first place. _The murmuring coming out of the hall was louder than usual for this early in the morning, but Harry thought nothing of it, dragging his feet towards the big double doors that led to food and a cup of coffee. He needed a cigarette.

Suddenly, without warning, the doors to the hall burst open violently, and Ron and Ginny rushed out of them, Ginny crashing straight into Harry while Ron passed him, a blur of red and black.

"Come on Ginny, we need to get to him before he wakes up."

Ginny blinked up at Harry with wide eyes.

"Um, Ron. He's here."

"Wha – ?" Ron span on a step and almost toppled down. "Harry!"

Harry gave a small wave, his mind still fixed on his coffee, slightly annoyed at being interrupted from his quest in such a rude fashion. He looked down at Ginny, smiled in a confused but well meaning way and began to walk past her to the hall.

"You can't go in there!" yelled Ron from the stairs in a panic.

"Why not?" Harry's voice betrayed his annoyance.

"Because – " began Ginny

"Well you see – " started Ron.

"What?" He really needed a cigarette.

"Well we don't want you to get angry…"

"But you see the thing is…"

"Uh…"

The two Weasleys stood in front of him, shifting sheepishly from foot to foot, and looking at each other with panic clearly printed across their faces. Ron was mumbling something about a troll. At that point, someone came through the doors behind Harry. They stopped when they saw the scene in front of them.

"Hello Potter." Malfoy.

Harry turned to face Malfoy. Why was the world conspiring to keep him away from his coffee and cigarette?! They were simple needs, and no one understood his pain!

"Have you seen today's Daily Prophet?"

Harry reached out instinctively and took the paper being brandished towards him.

"Nooooo"

Ron and Ginny lunged but they were too late. A photo of Harry looking morose was splashed across the front of the paper next to the headline 'Boy who Lived and wants to die: Harry Potter attempts suicide'. Shit.

"They could have been a bit more original." Said Malfoy casually. Ron was an alarming shade of red.

"Just what are you trying to do, Malfoy?…"

"Do?" Malfoy said innocently, "Nothing, I just thought Potter might like to know that he's in the news again."

"Oh so you were doing him a favour? Since when do you do anybody favours?" Ginny said venomously.

"Well, whatever you want to call it," shrugged Malfoy, his slender shoulders clearly visible through the thin material of his shirt.

Ron made an indistinct noise at the back of his throat.

"We were going to tell you Harry," began Ginny, "but we didn't want you to get upset…"

"Oh please, what's with treating him like a he's going to break? Does he look like he's about to burst into tears?" Malfoy said scathingly.

"You should know…after what he…" Ginny was after all Ron's sister, and at this point she joined her brother in mouthing wordlessly, unable to voice her outrage.

Malfoy laughed and looked at Harry, "Look at him. He doesn't even look upset. He's like stone. Impassive, unfeeling, ugly…"

Ron became about as red as it was possible to become, his hands clenching into fists. He opened his mouth, no doubt to say something very stupid.

Harry interrupted. "I really need a cigarette."

He turned and went into the hall, ignoring the faces staring at him, and directed himself towards the nearest coffee jug, pouring a steaming cup and then adding the milk in a splash, he turned and left, blowing on the cup as he made his way past his friends and out onto the field.

"Like stone…" he heard Malfoy murmuring as he passed, and he was aware of the boy's gaze on his back as he walked down the corridor. There was a beat as he opened the door.

"Harry!…."

* * *

Potter's back disappeared through the double doors and Draco was left facing the Gryffindor's girlfriend and supposed best friend. 

"Well…" he said diplomatically, edging away from the freakily red faces of the two Weasleys. "I'll just be going then…"

He turned quickly and began making his way towards the dungeons. Behind him he could hear the girl holding the older Weasley back. "Ron…he's not worth it…"

He smiled to himself, and then frowned. He was worth it, dammit. As he made his way further into the recesses of the corridor, Potter came unbidden into his mind. When he had passed him, with that glazed look that sleepwalkers have, he had been truly alarming. Empty was the word that came to mind. Hmm, he thought, empty and unstable. Sexy. No, he told himself. Empty is not sexy. Besides, Potter had smelt of beds, and sleep, and unclean things. Draco shook his head. He neared the portrait hole, now he could settle down and read the classifieds and do the crossword and relax a bit before first lessons. He was about to say the password to the Slytherin common room when he realised he'd given Potter his Daily Prophet. God damn him and his emptiness, Draco thought. Draco turned around and made his way back into the sunlight. Maybe he could get his paper back and steal a bit of coffee and a drag of a cigarette while he was at it. The air outside was clean and fresh and Draco breathed it in. He walked around the edge of the building and saw a most unholy sight. Oh Merlin, thought Draco, my retinas will never be clean. Potter and the Weasley girl were engaged in what appeared to be sucking the faces off each other. Potter was hunched forwards, holding the Weasley girl almost without touching her, kissing her without passion. She, in contrast, was hanging round his neck, clinging to him as though she were Lois Lane and he Superman. Draco smiled at his fabulous simile derived from the hours of 'muggle studies homework' he had done over the summer. Then the revolting aspect of the situation was brought back to him. He was about to back carefully round the side of the building when Potter opened his eyes and immediately locked them with Draco's. His eyes widened and he was about to pull away when the Weasley girl yanked on his neck and seemed to wrap herself around him most skilfully. Potter was unable to get out of this strange clasp, trapped by the claws of the red-haired vixen. Draco was almost impressed. A girl after his own heart. His eyes were still attached to Potter's and the strength of those piercing green orbs held Draco to the spot. The panic was obvious in the Gryffindor's eyes, but he seemed unable to prise the girl off him. Slowly, she moved her mouth, sliding it across his jaw bone and kissing gently as she made her way down towards his neck. Potter stood impassive, no longer trying to disentangle himself, just standing there, monolithic. Her mouth continued downwards and Draco watched, transfixed as she sucked at the nape of the black haired boy's neck. Potter stared back and lifted one hand in a what-can-I-do gesture. Draco felt uneasy watching, he wasn't a voyeur and Potter's coldness towards the Weasley's obvious passion was somewhat alarming. Draco was about to edge back round the building, abandoning his daily prophet to the fates, when he noticed Potter's eyes were sparkling with something that Draco couldn't quite place. With a sudden amazement, he realised that Potter was laughing! Draco almost laughed out loud himself. The poor girl, he thought. That boy is a black hole and she's being sucked in. Draco shook his head and laughed quietly.

At that moment, Weasley pulled back suddenly, a diver coming up for breath. She must have seen Potter's open eyes because she then abruptly looked behind her. She coloured immediately when she saw Draco and jumped away from Potter as though she had been burned. She bit her lip, mumbled something panicked and ran off. Draco had never seen anyone leave so quickly. _Am I really that evil?_ He wondered. He looked back, but Potter didn't seem bothered. He was already lighting a cigarette, leaning against the wall. His coffee was steaming gently at his feet, and beside that, Draco's Daily Prophet. Score.

* * *

Harry felt quite annoyed. But not too annoyed. He finally had his cigarette and nothing could stop the lazy smile that spread across his face as he took that first delicious drag. Well, maybe one thing. He glanced up and realised that Malfoy had crossed over and picked up the daily prophet and _his_ coffee. Harry watched with a growing sense of outrage as Malfoy took a sip of the coffee and began flicking through the paper. 

"Hey," he said, "do you mind?!"

"Not at all," said Malfoy, taking another drink from the cup. _Weren't his lips burning? _Wondered Harry. He decided he was too tired and just really couldn't be bothered with a row. He sat down and leant against the building, and Malfoy followed suit.

After a few moments of silence, Malfoy made a face. "You put way too much milk in your coffee."

"Don't drink it then."

"Swap you your coffee for a drag on your cigarette"

Harry took one last drag and passed the cigarette, taking a large gulp of the coffee. He liked it when it had lots of milk.

"Don't you want to know what it says about you?" asked Malfoy after a few more minutes of silence. Harry shrugged, he knew the other boy would tell him anyway.

"Harry Potter, famous as the only boy ever to survive the killing curse, and so recently recovered from the emergence of you-know-who, apparently no longer feels the will to live. The boy-who-lived tried to kill himself after his godfather, the infamous Sirius Black, was killed by you-know-who last summer – _they'd have to get that in, wouldn't they –_ We are, as of yet unsure of his psychological state, or whether he has been checked by St Mungo's officials to verify his mental stability. Many parents are worried as to whether he is a threat to other students, and indeed one pupil at Potter's school feels worried himself. "Potter has obviously been shaken deeply by what happened and I don't know whether he's going to stop at damaging himself. He shouts uncontrollably and doesn't talk to other people, and the other day he came downstairs with no shoes on…". Others are worried as to whether he will ever be able to defeat you-know-who…"

"Please stop."

Harry couldn't take any more. He put out a hand and took back his cigarette then stood up.

"I think the bell went ages ago, I'm going to head to class."

He began to walk away, finishing his coffee and savouring the last few puffs of his cigarette. Just as he was about to turn the corner, something occurred to him.

He turned back to Malfoy, who was standing up, running his hand though his hair and smiling to himself.

"By the way, how much did Zabini get for that?"

Malfoy looked up, startled by the abruptness of Harry's voice. A flick of light blond hair fell into his grey eyes and his smile curled mischievously. One shoulder was raised delicately and he tossed the flick out of his eyes with a careless twitch of his head.

"About 75?"

Harry nodded and headed towards the doors to the school.


End file.
